The Next Great Adventure
by Hestia01
Summary: What is death but the next great adventure? It's certainly not the end. Warning, major character deaths
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Files, I'm just an unpaid but enthusiastic fanficcer with too much time on my hands.**

**Happy Halloween everyone! Hope you like it!**

Agent Scully is in the morgue, which is fairly normal. She stands over her own dead body, which is not. Vague memories flicker as she tries to recall how she got here. She'd been out shopping, minding her own business, coming out of the grocery store. Naturally, she hadn't thought to wear Kevlar under her street clothes. The last thing she remembers is a gunshot in the back and then it all got fuzzy.

She watches as her mother comes to identify her body, unable to touch or make herself heard. Unable to console her. She watches the autopsy, then some time later both Mulder and Skinner arrive to see for themselves. Both men are reduced to emotional wrecks. The ordinarily impenetrable A.D. Skinner sobs dryly, clutching at Mulder in their shared grief. Any attempt of Scully's to speak to them is utterly useless. She steps forward and passes right through them. They leave and she remains, dutifully bound to her physical form, as though by parting with it she would admit she had no further use for it. There hadn't been any pain. It was over too fast for her to even know what had hit her. It's possible that the bullet that felled her hadn't even been meant for her. She may have been two steps away from being a witness to a murder rather than the victim.

For hours, Scully stays in the morgue, leaning up against the drawer her body has been rolled into. Then the room brightens, and a white figure stands before her.

"Dana!"

Scully peers, squinting into the brightness. "Missy?"

The image of her sister holds out her hand, "Come with me. It's over. It's all right. It's time to come home."

Staring at her sister's outstretched hand, Scully hesitates. Something holds her back. "I'm not ready," she breathes. "I can't be dead."

"I felt the same way. I was surprised, too, when it happened to me."

"Missy, I'm so sorry."

Her sister smiles, unperturbed by the past. "That doesn't matter now. Come. It's time."

"I need to get to Mulder. Tell him what happened."

"He was here and you couldn't speak to him. I saw. What makes you think he'd hear you?"

Irritated by this feeling of powerlessness, Scully paces, appealing to Melissa, "I don't know, I can make him, though! He believes in ghosts and-"

"And so do you. You've seen them. Haven't you?"

Scully runs a hand through her hair, messing it up from the front on back."God, Missy, is that what you've been doing all this time? Watching me at work?"

"Believe me, yours was more interesting than the others'."

"Right...So, you have to let me try again. Please! I don't want to die. I have to talk to Mulder."

"Look, Dana, I've been sent to bring you back with me. If you're not coming I don't know when the next trip up will be. You might not get to come," Missy tells her regretfully. "Please. Mulder will be all right. You'll be able to watch him whenever you want."

"Dammit, Missy, I don't want to watch him, I want to stay with him!" she blurts out in a moment of fierce honesty. "I'm not dead, I'm not!"

Missy walks the room over, gestures to the drawer her sister's body is in. "I'd call that pretty dead, wouldn't you?"

"We've been through too much. Accidents and illness and global conspiracies, alien abduction, hired hit-men..."

"And you were caught in crossfire and died," Missy informs her bluntly. She takes in the hopeless look on her sister's face, knowing that all the reasoning in the world won't get her anywhere. "Go on, visit Mulder."

"How? I don't even know how I got here."

Missy stands next to her sister, placing her hands on her shoulders. "You _exist _here, your body's here. But you exist there, too, don't you? Part of you is there. You can go. Just concentrate."

"What if I can't...?" Scully trails off uncertainly with a skyward glance.

Her sister shrugs, "That's your choice, and your risk. Is he worth forsaking Heaven?"

Scully gazes up at the column of light her sister descended from, catching just a glimpse of what might await her there. "I couldn't be happy there alone."

"I thought so. Kind of makes you wish you'd done something while you were alive, doesn't it?"

Scully nods. She gives Missy a smile, thinking how long it's been since they've seen each other, and how long it might be until their next reunion. "Mulder doesn't believe in Heaven. I won't leave him."

"I thought so. Take care, huh?"

"Yeah. You, too."

They embrace one last time and Missy leaves. The room returns to darkness and Scully is alone among the dead. In her mind and in her heart, she focuses on her partner, the only man she'd have forsaken Heaven for. It's as easy as thinking of him and she finds herself in his apartment. He's on the couch watching a movie, "Plan 9 from Outer Space". He watches with glassy eyes, not even seeing or hearing the movie, just frozen in grief. Scully sits next to him as she's done dozens of times before. She half-expects him to scoot towards her or acknowledge her in some way. The situation is too normal for it to be anything else.

"I'm staying, Mulder. I don't know if you can see or hear me...but I'm staying."

Mulder shifts position, laying down with the TV still on, to sleep. For a moment, his legs are stretched out right through her before she moves off the couch. She wonders if he can feel anything; if, in her spectral form, she is warm or cold or if she just doesn't register to the living at all. Scully sits next to him on the floor, glad to be spared Earthly discomforts from her lack of an actual body. Hours pass. As a ghost, she doesn't need to sleep, so she just sits up with him and watches contentedly. Well, not quite contentedly. As much as she'd tried to deny it when she was alive, she's very much in love with this man. There comes a certain clarity with having died, that she can't ignore it anymore. With a twinge of painful regret, Scully wishes she could snuggle up to him forever and ever. She places a hand over his, and it passes through him like mist. Still, she stays like this all night, murmuring softly to him while he sleeps fitfully, hoping she's doing some good by being near him.

The next morning, Mulder opens his eyes and sees Scully next to him. He stares, wide-eyed, and sits up. Several seconds pass as they just stare at each other. Scully is equally off-put, then she sees...She brings a hand to her mouth in mild horror. Still lying on the couch is Mulder's body, as his spirit sits up to regard her. "Oh, Mulder..." she sighs regretfully.

Mulder follows her line of vision and starts back in shock. "Yahh!" he shudders, standing up and scuttling behind his partner, pointing at his own corpse. "What...what...?!"

"I've read about this," Scully answers, standing up as well and stepping towards him. "Usually happens with married couples. Some die within days of each other with no known cause."

"Grief. I...I died of grief. Wait...what are you doing still here? I thought you had a first class ticket up that-a-way?" He gestures to the ceiling.

Scully nods with a shrug. "I stayed. I wanted to. I couldn't leave you behind."

"But...you might not ever get to go now. What if you're stuck here as a spirit forever?"

Scully smiles serenely, slipping her hand into his, "I love you," she admits at long last. "I chose to stay with you."

"You stayed because of me. Scully..." he pushes his irritation aside and takes her into his arms. "We have to get out of here. How long until they find...?"

"Skinner knew what happened to me. I don't think he'd be surprised if..." she, too, trails off, with a significant look at the body. Just then, the phone rings. The answering machine picks up and after the beep they hear the caller:

"Mulder, it's Skinner. Look...I'm on the way over. What happened yesterday...this changes everything. I'll be there in 20. Don't do anything rash."

They exchange looks, "Well, that answers that. Want to stay until he gets here?" Scully asks.

"Nah. So where do we go?"

"I talked to Missy yesterday. She made it sound like we could go anywhere we _existed._ If we were somehow attached to a place, we could appear there."

"You saw your sister? What else did she say?"

Scully shrugs, "Just that if I didn't go with her, I might lose my chance of...going...at all. That she doesn't hold a grudge against me for what happened to her. And she suggested I should've done something about us while we were still alive rather than wait to show my feelings after I was gunned down."

"Better late than never, though. I'll give you points for style." Mulder tells her, giving her a tight hug and kiss on the forehead. "Now we just have one question left. Where do we haunt?"

A wicked grin crosses Scully's face, immediately mirrored by her partner. As usual, they're thinking the same thing. "I have a pretty good idea..."

"Could be a federal offense."

"Come and get me."

In the blink of an eye, they stand together in the basement office they'd spent so much of their lives in. They both look around at it and have to smile, they're home. Mulder settles in his chair and looks up at his collection of pencils littering the ceiling. "So, now what? Apart from sitting down for some reason, we can't touch anything." He looks up at his partner and sees a highly determined look on her face as she reaches towards the stapler. On the first try her fingers go right through it. She clenches her teeth and looks intensely focused. She reaches out again and nudges it an inch. Mulder looks amazed. "How did you do that?! I forgot you had a head start on me with this whole 'being dead' business we've got going on.

"Ghost," she utters

"Being ghosts, then."

"No, Mulder, the movie Ghost. They say if you focus your energy hard enough it lets you touch things. It's hard at first, but I think we'll get better as we practice."

"And the chick flick is suddenly useful." He tries to lean back in his chair but ends up falling right out the back of it. Picking himself up with as much grace as he can, Mulder dusts himself off. "Great, this is just great. Yesterday we were contributing members of society, now we have to practice to be able to touch things."

Scully doesn't seem to be bothered by this turn of events, "No one ever said that being a ghost is easy. Plus, how are we supposed to properly haunt the place if we can't move stuff around...Spooky?"

"After you, Mrs. Spooky," he snarks back. Looking up to see her reaction, he's surprised to see she's smiling at him. A little sadly, but it's definitely a smile. _She likes being Mrs Spooky?_ He wonders.

They spend the morning "practicing" and it seems no time has gone by at all when Skinner comes down into the room. Instinctively, both agents straighten up respectfully for their superior, then together they realize he can't see them and they relax again. Skinner paces, looking all around as though he'd just entered a sacred shrine. Two more steps bring him literally on top of Agent Scully and he freezes in place. It gives him the distinct impression that he's not alone in the room, he senses a strong presence that he can't put a name on. "Hello? Is someone there?"

"Sir, it's me, it's Dana Scully. I'm here. Mulder's here, too."

"Hello? Anyone?"

Now realizing that sensing her isn't enough, Scully removes herself from him, looking shaken. "That was weird," she admits.

Mulder looks her over, obviously concerned. "You all right?"

She raises her eyebrow at him. "Mulder, I'm dead. Apart from that, I'm just peachy. That was weird, though, standing right in him. I felt...I think I felt his soul. It was actually kind of nice." Knowing that going into detail won't help matters, she thinks to herself how it had felt to be that close to him, close enough to feel his beating heart. Was it her imagination, or had Scully actually felt the pain that Skinner was suffering, the loss of his favorites who'd given him such a hard run of it over the years? Yes, it had been real. He'd come to feel for the infamous pair as though they were his own son and daughter, and the loss he feels now is close to unbearable. Scully watches him inspect their office, sharing his sadness and regret.

They watch Skinner walk around the room, muttering to himself. "I could've sworn...felt like someone was here." He raises his voice significantly, "If either of you are down here, if you can hear me...it won't be the same without you. I, uh..I'll miss you." He steps behind the desk and faces the bulletin board. He removes the pushpins from Mulder's poster and takes it off the wall, rolling it up in a tube.

"Hey, that's mine! You put that back!" Mulder protests uselessly. Scully puts a hand on his arm, shaking her head and bringing him to heel.

"Let him have it. If he wants it to remember you by, let him keep it. I'll try to get his attention." Scully tries her luck with her new-found abilities, flicking a pushpin off the desk, hitting Skinner square in the back. "Yes!" she cries out in triumph. Skinner brings a hand to his back where the pin had struck, whipping back around to see what had caused it. Seeing nothing, he leaves, but gives the room a shifty look. Both agents share a glance and follow him out, for lack of anything better to do. On the way up the elevator, they take turns prodding Skinner, watching him look around for the culprit, giggling to themselves like naughty schoolchildren. They spend the remainder of the day in Skinner's office, reading over his shoulder as he goes over their old reports with an occasional chuckle of remembrance. Mulder and Scully start giving each other a running commentary of various cases.

"Remember the time we just got back from Texas and that whole vampire business?" Mulder offers.

Scully makes an annoyed sound, barely concealing a laugh, "I thought he was going to kill us. And you, Mr. Suave, 'I was drugged!'"

"Well, that's what you told me to say!"

"Yes, to bring it up or at least lay some stress on that fact, not use it as your opening and closing defense! God, I'm surprised we didn't go to prison for that!"

"Well, the kid wasn't dead, luckily. Just _undead!_" He growls eerily, wiggling his fingers at her. "Hey, Scully?"

"Hmm?"

"Any idea what we do next?"

She thinks about it, looks about ready to say she doesn't know, when Skinner puts their old cases aside and the phone rings. He picks up and a short conversation ensues.

"Yeah...yeah, both of them. Thank you, it's...difficult to say the least. I don't care what anyone else thought of them, they were the best field agents I've known, they'll be hard to replace. Thank you. Already? Look, I'm all for efficiency, but...the bodies aren't even cold yet! Fine, fine, send him on up. I just hope he's up to scratch. What do you think _they _wouldhave thought of him? Ah. Well. Yes, I'll see him." Both dead agents wonder if it's a trick of the light or if they see a smile hinting on their boss's face...what could this mean?

"We're being replaced already?!" Scully demands, looking thoroughly unsettled.

"At least they're not closing down the X-Files," Mulder allows, "That's something." A few minutes later, a man enters. He shakes hands with Skinner and sits down.

The two ghosts hang back silently, watching the interview with their replacement. John Doggett seems to be a clean-cut, down to business kind of guy, whose attitude to the paranormal mirrored Scully's from when she first started out. It really brought to the fore how much ground she had made over the years, how much she became willing to accept during her time as Mulder's partner.

"So what do you think?" Scully leans in and asks softly, forgetting for the moment that they can't be heard.

"He's definitely a piece of work. Does he look like the guy from Terminator to you?"

Scully grins evilly, giving him a nudge with her elbow. "I see potential, anyway. This is perfect, the guy's never seen or experienced anything weird. He'd be great to practice on. He'd probably even get freaked by what we can do now. This promises to be fun."

Mulder leans in and murmurs into her hair, "I love you."


	2. Chapter 2

Their double funeral is the next day, it attracts quite a showing. Everyone present feels the appropriateness of sending them off together. The Lone Gunmen and Skinner all act as pallbearers. The deceased watch from the front of the church, hand in hand, weeping at their own funeral. They're surprised to find that their clothes have changed to fit their mood, they're both in appropriate mourning attire that they'd seen on each other before. The lids are reopened and they see for the first time how they're being fare-welled. Personal artifacts are placed in their caskets: Scully's mother made sure to have her wear her favorite cross necklace; Langley slipped in a scalpel and a pair of safety glasses at her hands. Mulder was going down with a bag of sunflower seeds, a plush toy alien, and an old family picture. Skinner passes each of their caskets; he's known for years what they'd only just admitted to each other, and so he sees that his agents are buried with each other's ID close to their hearts. He hovers over them, barely able to believe that they lay dead before them. These determined, vibrant people he was blessed to know, although they'd oftentimes caused him to tear his remaining hair out by the roots, saying they'd be missed was an almost indecent understatement. When everyone has settled, he stands up front again. Somehow, in his daze, he delivers their eulogy. His speech underscores their teamwork, their long-enduring quest, their friendship and love for each other. Even among their fellow agents with whom they didn't really get along, there isn't a dry eye in the house. He finds his seat again, mopping his face with his handkerchief. Scully sidles up next to him, focusing hard and brushes his hand that lay in his lap. He flinches, wondering if he imagined the sensation of a cool female hand against his. Skinner doesn't dare speak her name, lest he upset anyone present or look like he's hallucinating. Instead, he moves his hand in the direction the feeling came from, stretching out his fingers to touch...but finds nothing. This is too much, given the circumstances. When Scully sees his hand go through hers she breaks down crying. Mulder wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulls her close as she sobs in grief. She feels like she's lost her father all over again. That Skinner knows she's there but they can't interact makes the whole situation seem more hopeless than it already did.

"I don't want to be dead, I can't be dead," she keens shrilly. Mulder hugs her tight, giving her some illusion of being alive. It reminds her that at least she's still real to him. Her shock soon abates as she once again faces facts, and is glad she has Mulder for company. She gets up, gives him a nod to show she's better, and goes over to sit with her mother. Again, she conjures up all of her energy and brushes her shoulder, finding better control already. It's getting easier the more she practices, although it's still tiring. Maggie looks to her left but sees no one, although she feels something touch her face, and wipe a tear away. Scully is amazed at this success, staring at the tear that glistens on her spectral finger before she loses it and it falls onto the seat between them.

Maggie shows no such qualms about voicing her suspicion—and hope! "Dana?" she murmurs hesitantly. "If that's you," she whispers, "do that again."

Scully scowls in frustration, already tired by her efforts. She tries again without success, completely out of juice. "No..." she whines to herself in frustration. "Please!" Her anger mounts as she might as well be clawing at air. Worn out and unable to perform on command, she drops her head into her hands, which are propped up on her knees, heaving a disheartened sigh. Her mother still looks for a sign that what she'd felt was real. She shakes her head, tossing that possibility aside as the product of wishful thinking and an overactive imagination. The service is soon over and they break up to go out to the cemetery. Scully sits next to her mother in one hearse, Mulder rides with Skinner and the guys in the other.

Langley tries to lighten the mood on the way there by taking out a pocket tape-recorder and playing "Another One Bites the Dust", causing the other men to smile through their grief. They nod and tap their feet to the beat, Mulder even joins in, occasionally able to tap on his own casket in time to the music. "Thanks, guys," he tells them, even though they can't hear. Even more than Skinner's touching eulogy, this small act makes him realize how much he loves these guys. Maybe being dead takes down some barriers that the living keep up; he sees them clearly for what they are, without pretense or ploy. He looks around at them, and can't get over the feeling of how lucky he is to have had friends like them.

On the way to the cemetery, Scully rests up for another effort to make herself known, before her mother gives up completely. At last she manages to pat her mother's shoulder ever so briefly, making her jump and look again. "Dana?" Slowly, a look of understanding crosses her features, realizing what an effort it must take for a mere phantom to take physical form. "Bit strange, isn't it?" she murmurs, "Going to your own burial like this? I wish we could talk..."

"Me, too, Mom," Scully inaudibly agrees, touching her hand again.

"Why don't you go on? Can't you? I suppose you have unfinished business, that would hold you back. I hope you and Fox resolve it soon. Is he with you? Of course, he must be, you two couldn't let a little thing like death separate you."

Scully smiles and sighs to herself, wondering if she made the right decision in staying behind. Then she remembers the plans she and Mulder had made, breaking in the new recruit in their own special way. They'd talked it over all the previous night...

"I wonder if we can make him quit?" Mulder had wondered.

"We just met him, let's not jump to that just yet," she'd chided. "We just need to let him know that this is still our department. If he wants to work here, he's going to have to earn it."

"I think being dead agrees with you. I've never seen this side of you before."

"Well, there's not much anyone can do to us at this point," Scully points out. "Besides, you know I'm protective of what's mine."

"You certainly are," Mulder agrees, "and despite your insistence on finding the rational answer to things and spoiling my fun, I'd say you earned your place, too."

"Glad you think so. Now, how should we start?"

Mulder grins evilly, "I have an idea..."

The two ghosts now stand over their own graves. Skinner and Mrs. Scully had helped arrange for them to be buried together, which the deceased found very touching. They peer down, now feeling sick when they consider the implications. Their bodies are cold, immobile, bereft of life, and will remain there underground until rotted away. Scully shudders as she thinks of what's to happen to her body, which such a short time ago was warm and alive and fighting the good fight, living out her life to the best she knew how. If she'd known a week ago that her life was drawing to an end, would she have done anything differently? The usual sentimentality of final goodbyes and words of love? Would she have tried something daring or silly or special because, as the saying goes, 'tomorrow you shall die'? She looks over at Mulder, who seems to be thinking the same things. She wonders if she made a mistake in going to him, if it had hindered rather than helped. If she hadn't been there when he woke up dead that morning, might he have gotten a visit from above, inviting him home? Scully sighs; Mulder wraps an arm around her and she cuddles close. She knows they'll feel better once they leave the graveyard. They just need to get back where they belong and the melancholy won't be quite so heavy. There will still be the quiet, the loneliness, of being dead, but as long as they seek out the illusion of life, they should be able to cope. And who knows when the next 'ride up' will be? There's no guarantee that they've shunned the Great Beyond forever. If there is a just and loving God, surely such a God would understand a change of heart. They have things to do now, once they're taken care of, they'll welcome accepting their death.

They find themselves once again in their basement, dressed in their regular work clothes. If they hadn't just gotten back from their own funeral, it would be easy to forget that they're dead. Mulder tries to pick up a piece of paper to look at it more closely, and his hand sinks right through the desk. He pulls back, scratches the back of his neck in frustration, giving the desk and paper a distrustful look. "I'll get back to you," he promises darkly.

"So, now what?" He asks his fellow phantom. "We wait here until morning?"

Scully shrugs, "I really didn't plan for this, so if you're looking for a schedule of some kind, don't ask me. There's got to be something else to do than just hang around here. No one will even be around until tomorrow morning."

"Maybe we can practice our set? Breaking in Doggett?" Mulder suggests halfheartedly.

"I'm tired of practicing. Tired of people not seeing or hearing me." She gazes at him thoughtfully with half a smile. "I'm glad you're here, Mulder. I'm sorry you died like that, but I'm so glad I'm not alone like this."

He smiles back, stroking her arm, bringing his hand up through her hair. "You're still real to me," he assures her. "I feel like this is my fault, though. That I held you back. If you hadn't been so worried about me you would've gone with Missy."

Scully sits on the edge of the desk, letting Mulder stand over her in the way she's always secretly enjoyed. "It was my decision. There's no blame here. I wanted to stay, I wasn't ready. Just know that if I get to go, I'm bringing you with me somehow."

"What, a godless heathen like me get into the Pearly Gates?"

"Stranger things have happened. And...I just thought of something," she adds with a full smile. Scully looks so hopeful all of a sudden, as though she's having a breakthrough of some kind. "We can go wherever we exist, right?"

"That's what you told me."

"What if someone's dreaming about us? Do you think...maybe we could get in, and be able to talk to them?"

Mulder looks thoughtful, gesturing in the air, pointing at nothing as he works this out in his head. "You know, that might be crazy enough to work. How do we find out?"

Scully steps slightly away from him, puts her head down and concentrates, reaching out with her mind for someplace where she belongs. After a moment of searching, she vanishes! Mulder jumps up in his seat, looking all over for her.

When she resurfaces, Scully finds herself in strange surroundings, pieces of furniture are scattered in an open, airy field of hazy gray. Lots of strange, distorted images creep by, a feeling of deep despair clings to the place. She sees two open graves at her feet and she skittishly veers away. Plunging ahead through all of this, she finds a familiar figure among it.

"Skinner!" She calls, waving to him. He looks up, amazed.

"Scully!? Wha... how?"

She runs to him and is at his side in an instant. "Oh, sir! You don't know how relieved I am! You can see me? Hear me?"

"I see you, and I hear you. But Scully...aren't you dead?"

Slowly, the images shift, it's changing from a free-form dream into a more lucid one. Her presence is helping this. Their surroundings begin to take on a familiar setting, his office. "Yes, sir, I'm dead. But...thank God you can see me! I've only been gone for two days and I missed you already!" An idea occurs to her...she puts out a hand, looking almost afraid. Slowly, she inches it towards him...and touches his arm! It took no effort or force of will at all! Scully stares, looking ready to weep, when he takes her hand and draws her closer. He takes her in his arms and kisses her. Joyfully, she kisses back, hugging him tightly. "Oh, sir," she gasps, pressing her cheek to his chest.

"God, I love you, Scully. Dana. Why did...why did you have to go and die like that?"

"Why didn't anyone ever tell me they loved me _before_ I died?" she murmurs with regret. "I'm so glad I exist here. It's so hard to touch people in the waking world."

"Was that really you? At the funeral I felt you touch me, I think."

"I did. This feels so good," Scully purrs, making up for all the lost chances, all of the hugs she's wanted to give this man, who had come to replace her father in many ways. They stand there in each other's arms, quietly weeping together for no one knows how long. Skinner pets her hair, running his fingers through it, touching her face, kissing her forehead. Scully makes no move to get him to stop, she laps it all up. It's a dream, after all, why not enjoy it? All of those pesky complexities that life put up in her way have been taken down. Being dead simplifies so much. In life, while they may have cared for each other very much, they could never have acted on such impulses without jeopardizing their futures, their careers, even their lives. Now, those consequences mean nothing. Sadly ironic that it's only after death that Scully is free to love openly. Not only the romantic love that had been burgeoning from her first assignment with Mulder, but the different but no less wonderful bond she had with her superior. They'd do anything they could for each other. "I saw you when you came to ID my body," Scully murmurs, still clinging to him. "I wanted this then...so much."

"I never would've thought you'd stay behind," Skinner admits, staring into her face.

"I have unfinished business. Mulder's down in the basement still, he's probably wondering what happened to me."

Just then they hear someone clear his throat behind them. They whip around and jump apart guiltily, for Mulder stands there with a look that suggests that he'd seen enough.

"I got in, too, actually," he casually remarks.

"This isn't what it looks like," Skinner tells him, gently pushing Scully away while she grapples desperately at his hands, not wanting to lose that contact, that touch. As platonic as it had been, it had meant so much to her, having spent such a painfully lonely two days as a ghost. Still, Skinner insists, setting their boundaries firmly in place. She sinks down into a chair, crestfallen. Both men stare at her, curiously. "She missed me, that's all. She was just glad we could see, hear, and touch each other. It must be hard to get used to at first."

"Yeah, well, don't worry. I don't need a hug," Mulder tells him, decidedly grumpy, not sure if he believes the innocence of their intentions.

"Mulder, I might be wrong here, but I think Agent Scully has been very lonely for a very long time. Don't wreck things by getting jealous over nothing. Even if we had those kind of feelings for each other, what could we do? She's dead," Skinner reminds him quietly, steering him away by the shoulder. He doesn't miss that Mulder actually relaxes under his firm guiding hand rather than stiffening or pulling away. As much as he would deny it, Mulder was lonely for the old guy, too. They look each other in the eye, Skinner nods indulgently. "It's all right..." and gives him a quick man-hug. A few slaps on the back and they part, both men are now fighting tears: blinking and sniffing and looking up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry to lose you, Mulder. As much of a pain in the ass as you can be, you'll be hard to replace."

"That's actually what we came to talk to you about. Scully and I talked it over, and as traditional as it is to haunt the home where one lived or the place of death, we had the wacky notion to stay with the Bureau. Thought we could break in Agent Doggett, for one thing. I mean, that guy on the X-Files division? He's not seen anything yet."

Skinner gives a bark of laughter, looking at his pair of agents. "He is a little wet behind the ears in that respect, isn't he? You're not planning on hurting anybody, are you?"

"Oh, no, sir," Scully answers, "Just to perplex, annoy, help even."

"Help. Right."

"I mean it! Think of us as...consultants."

Skinner paces between the two of them, sees them inch closer together, now hand in hand. He smiles. "Consultants? And...is anyone else going to know we have such...consultants?"

"We figure it would be on a need to know basis, so...no," Scully pronounces. "Besides, who would believe it? Let the others think they're losing their minds if they want. Maybe just listen to their 'concerns' if they come up, but don't come out and say 'haunted'. Sound fair?"

Shaking his head wonderingly, now glad that these two have opted to stay behind, he nods in affirmation to their proposal. "And I was worried what I'd do with all the peace and quiet from not having you around," he quips. Then, all kidding aside, he shakes Mulder's hand and gives Scully a kiss on the cheek. "I hope to hear from you soon. Get cracking."

"Yes, sir," they reply in unison. They vanish together and find themselves standing over their boss's sleeping body. Scully gazes down at him with a fond smile, heaves a heavy sigh, and cuddles in close to Mulder. "That was nice," she whispers with a smile. "I hope he remembers it when he wakes up."

"He will, he was himself during it. Those are easier to remember than the nonsense dreams. Want to try you mom's next? I bet she'll be dreaming about you tonight."

"Yeah, nightmares," Scully shudders.

"So change it. Like you did with Skinner's. I caught a glimpse before it changed into his office, it was like being in Salvador Dali's head. Let me in the back door once you're in," he requests.

She still looks nervous about it, but nods. Reaching out with her mind like she did last time, she soon finds a place where she can exist. Already, she feels her mother's pain and despair. Then she blinks out of existence.

She stands within a maelstrom of black and red, lightning flashes across the sky. Scully finds hallmarks of homes she'd grown up in, the misery of the place sinking into her soul. Wandering through these strange winding corridors, she sees a series of doors, each hung with a black wreath. "Oh, Mom," she sighs. "I'm so sorry." Unearthly shapes, pulsing with an aura of ill will, sweep through the halls, making her shake with cold and fear. "Mom!? Mom, I'm here! It's me, it's Dana!"

She reaches the end of the tunnel and finds her mother, aged beyond her years. "Mom, it's me. I stayed. I'm here. Please talk to me."

"Dana? You're all right?"

"I'm fine, Mom. Don't worry about me."

The old woman looks around herself helplessly, broken by her deep sadness, "They're dead, _dead!_ You were all too young to go."

"I stayed, Mom," Scully repeats, "and I'll visit, I promise."

Her mother is not comforted, though. "My husband...my babies...gone! Just, gone! Taken away. But...you stayed? Why?"

"I couldn't leave the people I loved behind. I couldn't go. I'll be close by. I won't leave you. I'm so sorry this happened. It couldn't have been helped, though. It was an accident. I didn't want to die, either. I won't go, I refuse to. Mulder and I are staying to help out at work, to see if we can do anything with our replacement. We're bound to these places, we can't leave yet." Slowly, her mother starts looking like herself again. She straightens up and looks her daughter in the face. Just as Scully had done with Skinner, her mother reaches towards her. Scully helps, taking her mother's hand and pressing it to her cheek. "I'm here. I'm still here."

The rooms around them begin to change now as well, the low-swooping angels of death fade, bits of sunshine pierce through the nightmarish clouds overhead. Margaret looks at her daughter and pulls her into a hug. "I'll miss you. It's not fair, I've lost both my girls. Parents shouldn't outlive their children."

"I know...I know, but I won't be far."

"I'm so sorry you died."

Scully laughs through a sob, "It's all right, it wasn't that bad. It was fast, I didn't feel a thing. I'm just so glad I can talk to you."

"Fox stayed behind, too?"

"Yeah, can he come in for a bit? He'd like to."

Her mother looks confused at her request. "What do you mean? Can't he just appear wherever he wants?"

She shakes her head, clarifying, "Invitation only. We can be wherever we have some kind of attachment. You were dreaming about me, even if only vaguely, so I could come. You have to be thinking about Mulder for him to get in."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd like it to be just us for now," Margaret requests, still unable to take her eyes off her youngest child. "We'll let him come next time. What are you going to do now?"

Scully steps back, smiling at the prospect that awaits her and her partner. "We overheard Skinner talking to our replacement-"

"Replacement? That was sure fast, wasn't it?"

"Tell me about it. Anyway, we were there for the interview, and Mom, he's worse than me! I might not believe Mulder every time he has one of his wild theories, but at least I listen and I don't use it against him. This guy...I'm just lucky I don't have to actually work with him!"

"So...?"

Now at the heart of the matter, Scully paces, gesticulating forcefully to drive the point home. "If he thinks he's just going to waltz on in and take over, he's got another thing coming. He has me and Mulder to answer to whether he realizes it yet or not. We already got our proposal cleared with Skinner, he's with us 100 percent, as long as we don't hurt anybody." She actually looks disappointed at that stipulation. "Anyway, we're going to start out in standard form, stick with the classics, moving stuff around and messing with lights, tapping him and stuff just to see what he does. If he acknowledges us, or comes to the right conclusion on his own without it being spelled out to him, then he earns his place." Heavy emphasis is laid on the last four words as she turns on her heel for another lap. "We even suggested helping him out, if he actually bothers to take a case. With our luck, he'll just chuck them in the shredder like Spender did. Anyway...I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Mulder's all for driving him to resigning right off the bat, but I don't see that as very sportsmanlike. If he gets on our _bad_ side, though, he'll know."

Mrs. Scully looks rather taken aback at this pronouncement. "What do you mean by that, Dana? Surely, you wouldn't-"

"Nothing serious...but I've seen 'Beetlejuice'! Now that would be worth a try." She stares off, imagining what she would like to do if provoked.

Her mother isn't quite as amused, "Dana, this doesn't sound like you at all. Is that all you stayed back here for? Revenge on someone you don't even know?"

"Not revenge, just...you don't know what this is like. The dead don't like being ignored. I stayed because I didn't want to leave Mulder. Now that he's dead, too, we'll see about catching the next ride up once it's available. Until then, we want to stay at work and do what we can. Our work isn't done yet. It's liberating, but lonely, too. At least we get to stick together."

"Well, I don't like it, it doesn't sound natural to me, but there's not much I can do about it at this point. If you do decide to drop in while I'm awake..."

"Don't worry, Mom, I won't try to scare you. I'll save that for the office. You have to see the appeal of that, can't you?"

"From what you've told me of people you've had to deal with...yes, I can see how that would be tempting," her mother allows with a smile, brushing Scully's face, taking full advantage of their ability to touch. Something so simple, easily taken for granted by the living. How she must miss it, even in the short while it's been denied to her. "Oh, it's not fair," she sighs, still awash with grief. "You should have had a long life ahead of you.

"I know, I know," Scully agrees. "I saw Missy just after it happened, talked to her. She looked well." She has trouble talking about her sister in the present tense, this whole experience is still so strange.

Margaret nods, still noticeably upset, but doing better since her daughter's visit and intervention. Just knowing that Dana will be nearby helps. "You'd better go now, sounds like you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow. Get some rest."

"Mom, I'm dead, I don't need to sleep."

"Don't argue with me. Even if you can't sleep, rest up. I bet touching people and moving stuff around must wear you out."

Scully smiles agreeably, "I will, I'll go easy at first, too."

"Good. Now another thing, don't cause too much trouble! Thanks for coming; it might not seem like much, but you were a big help tonight. I just didn't want to lose you. I didn't want to lose any of you."

"I hope Bill can find time to drop by more often for you. God, he's going to be angry for a long time. It's a good thing Mulder died the same night I did, or he would've killed him! I'm not even exaggerating."

"No, I know you're not. He didn't like you being in the FBI, he thought it was too dangerous, and the company you kept didn't help any."

With a weary sigh, Scully requests, "Try to make him understand, Mom. Tell him I talked to you. Huh, like he'd buy that. Just tell him it would have happened no matter what. I was at the wrong place at the wrong time, like anyone could've been. There's no need to blame anybody."

"That will be hard for him," her mother replies. "You know what he's like."

"If he wants to play rough, I'll haunt him myself."

Mrs Scully actually smiles at that. "I understand, it would be over thirty years in the making for you to get back at him. You two had a decent enough relationship, I think, but he did have a tendency to treat you like you were younger and more helpless than you really were. So go on, get some rest, get ready for what's to come. Visit whenever you can. And Mulder."

"Bye, Mom, good night!"

She reappears back in the basement, and Mulder with her, who looks rather ruffled.

"I thought I told you to let me in! Didn't you tell her how it worked?"

"Mulder, you wouldn't have wanted to see that, trust me. It was horrible," she shudders. "Just...the feeling of it, the grief. Mom's lost nearly everybody, she wanted me to herself for the first time. She said you were welcome to visit any other time, though. She'd like to see you, and she's glad we're together like this."

Mulder walks around the dark room, focuses his energy and flips on the light switch. Both of them grin at this accomplishment. At least they don't have to hang around in the dark. "You were gone longer than I expected."

"Were you worried?"

"Nah, just...it really brought home how alone we are. You know? But hey, check this out. Look what I can do."

Scully takes a chair and watches him get warmed up. He rubs his hands together forcefully, theatrically, takes several deep breaths, and reaches towards the pencil cup. He grasps a single pencil and in one fluid motion flings it up into the ceiling, where it sticks. Scully whoops and claps for him, as he takes a bow. She stands, ready to give him the seat to let him rest, but he doesn't seem to be over-tired. "Mulder, are you all right? That was a lot that you just did!"

"I'm fine, I was working on it while you were away. Not bad, huh?" He gives the ceiling a cocky glance.

Scully smirks with a shake of the head, "Not bad at all." She brings her arms up around her shoulders, Mulder moseys over and pulls her into his arms. They sink down onto the floor and they cuddle up for companionship and their imagined warmth. Mulder traces his thumb over Scully's cheek and down her neck. He kisses her forehead, her cheeks, not daring yet to go beyond established boundaries. Then she breaks the ice for him, bringing her arms up around his neck and giving him a kiss on the mouth, followed by another and another. In the blink of an eye, Scully is now wearing a blue silk nightgown.

Mulder studies her in surprise, sliding his hands down the smooth material. "I don't know about that, you might get cold."

"Somehow I don't think that will be a problem," she answers lightly.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite what Scully had told her mother about ghosts not needing to sleep, she finds she must have done it out of habit, for she finds herself waking up next to Mulder, broad daylight streaming in through the small, high windows. They both sit up with a start at the sound of hard, deliberate footsteps and John Doggett takes his place in their hallowed dungeon. Both of the deceased find themselves in their work clothes yet again, and they stand up, watching the newcomer with interest. Skinner comes down seconds later to brief him on the job, and they could swear he gave the room a once-over with a knowing smirk. _He remembers! He knows we're here!_

"Now, we've already established that you have no prior experience in the paranormal. How much are you willing to believe?" Skinner asks.

"Must there be a paranormal explanation to these kind of cases?"

"What I mean is, what's your take on it? Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?"

Skinner's question triggers vivid memories in his two previous paranormal investigators. They turn to each other with nostalgia written all over their faces. It had been one of the first things Mulder had ever said to Scully on her first day down here. It seemed fitting to have it be the first thing the new guy is asked.

"Is it absolutely necessary that I do? Because if that's the case you've got the wrong guy. I heard of the agents who used to work down here, their reputation was...interesting, let's say-"

"Doggett!" Skinner calls him sharply to attention with warning in his eyes. "I'll have you know I held them in utmost respect. Aside from that, it's poor manners to speak ill of the dead. They were brave, brilliant people who gave all they had to uncover the truth. It was their mission, their life. If that makes for an 'interesting' reputation, we could use a few more interesting people around here."

John backs off, deferring to his superior, making a mental note that he seems to share his former agents' eccentricity, and not to set him off. "Sorry, sir. My sympathies on your loss. I forgot."

"Don't forget again." He looks over the room again, for a second he looks directly at Mulder. "Get started."

Mulder's lip curls in a wicked sneer, "Will do, sir." He stalks over to the invader of his territory, who is now sitting in _his_ chair behind _his_ desk. "Believe in ghosts, pal? Things that go bump in the night?"

Scully hangs back a bit, watching with keen interest, wondering what her partner is going to do. Then she notices one of Mulder's old certificates is hanging lopsidedly. Without thinking about it, she adjusts it so it's straight. Doggett looks up and behind him, like he'd seen it out of the corner of his eye. Then he brushes it off, tsking to himself about seeing things. There's a small stack of folders on the desk, presented for his inspection. He flips through some of them with a clear look of disgust and disbelief.

"This is what they're paying me for? Why did I take this? 'There's a slot that just opened up, John, you could be head of a division. It would look great at the next promotion opportunity, John. If you play your cards right it could be the easiest gig in the building.'" He mimics his coworkers' under his breath. "Yeah, right. Aliens, funny lights in the sky, mutants, chupa..choo-pa..."

"Chupacabras," Mulder corrects him, knocking a stack of papers over.

Doggett slaps a hand down on the papers as they slide off, looking upward at the overhead vents. Pushing them back in place, he leans back and looks up at the ceiling and sees his collection of pencils. "Oh yeah, this guy must've been riveted." He gets up and wanders, finds an old ID tag hanging from a shelf. "Hmm, partner was cute. Heard she was a real winner, though," he mutters in disdainful sarcasm.

Mulder's had enough at this point. It's bad enough to listen to this guy bad-mouth him and his life's work, but insulting his partner is where he draws the line. He gets behind the offending party and whacks him upside the head. If he'd had more energy he would've knocked him to the floor. "That was a warning. Say that again and it'll be worse for you."

Now joining in on the fun, Scully goes behind the desk at the same time Doggett does. Just as he's about to sit back down, she nudges the chair out further so he misses it completely and falls to the ground. "I can take care of myself, thanks," she remarks coolly, giving her replacement a look of clear dislike. Then she actually takes in what she just did, from the look on her face Mulder can tell that it must've felt good. She'd been good, over the years, at containing her resentment towards the people who look down on her. Day after day, pretending things don't bother her, because if she actually exacted retribution, it would be the end of the road for her, career-wise. Now...now the door is wide open to get her own back.

Doggett stands up, eyes the chair suspiciously and holds it in place as he sits down. The two ghosts watch him silently, wishing he'd read through a case or do something useful, but it seems that he lacked the basic curiosity needed to follow up any of the ones in his "in" tray.

"Let's tone it down, Scully. We're getting a bit obvious," Mulder advises.

She nods, "You're right, better work up to it slowly. If we start out too strong, it'll just make more work for us later to keep up with ourselves. God, he's boring!"

"Not much we an do about it, I guess. You should've thought about this before you decided to stay behind."

Scully glares and crosses her arms. "All right, let's get it out right now. You keep making these snide remarks, like you think my hanging back was some kind of stupid move. Is that what you think?"

"No, I just-"

"Because for some unfathomable reason, I thought I wanted to stay with you. Understand? _I could not be happy in Heaven without you!_" Scully fumes, standing stiffly, drawing herself up to her full height. "And you think it was a bad move?! You don't want me around? You wish I'd just left you?"

"Scully, calm down-"

As can be expected, this suggestion has the opposite effect. She fumes with internalized fury, then she lets it loose; "I don't want to calm down!" She shouts, as she does the light bulb overhead grows brighter and then shatters, making everyone in the room jump. "Now what in the hell was that?"

Mulder looks up at the socket, the broken remains of the bulb hanging out in shards above them. "I'm glad you're here, okay? I didn't mean it like that. I just feel like you had more of a choice in the matter than I did and I can't believe you'd opt for this kind of existence willingly. I'm glad you're here," he repeats soothingly, placing his hands on her shoulders, pulling her out of the way as Doggett changes the bulb. He stands on a chair with a wad of newspaper in his hand to get it out. It offers at least some protection to his hand as he unscrews the jagged end part from the fixture. He mutters to himself about the shoddiness of his work conditions, adding to his disdain for the place. Scully still scowls at Mulder sulkily, not sure if she believes him. "Really. I'll shut up about it, okay? I'm not saying you were stupid or that it was a bad idea. I mean it. Okay?"

Scully's calmed down again, fidgets with her hands, "I just don't want us to get sick of the sight of each other, especially this early on. It's what I'm worried about, I guess. That we'll start getting on each other's nerves until we can't stand each other anymore."

"Yeah, I can understand that. We'll have to work on something, make sure we get some time apart but we know where each other is. It's not like we can call each other or anything.. Need some alone time, Scully?"

"I'm okay for now, but I might have to take you up on that today sometime. We both need it on a regular basis, or we'll be in each other's faces all the time. We don't have any biological reasons for privacy that the living do: we don't eat, we don't go to the bathroom, but we still need time for ourselves," she astutely observes. She sits on the edge of the desk, looking over at Doggett, "Gonna do any work today?" Scully asks uselessly, "Your first day on the job and you're going to sit around and take up space? Why don't you look through one of these cases? You might find something interesting." He just sits there, now reading the paper. "Okay, that's it, just say the word, Mulder and I'll see if we can make him mambo around the room singing Harry Belafonte."

"Now that I wouldn't mind seeing, although I don't think we'd be up for that." Then he, too, stalks up to his replacement and knocks over another stack of papers. "Do something!"

Doggett jumps up and gathers the scattered papers back into a pile, looks up behind him and closes the window.

Scully rolls her eyes at him, gets up and opens the window back up. Mulder gives her a worried look, "Easy does it, I thought we weren't going to go overboard on the parlor tricks this soon."

Unconcerned, she shrugs, "He'll just ignore it or find some way to pretend it can open on its own. Trust me. Watch this." Sure enough, Doggett is back up, fiddles with the window to shut it, Scully pushes it back open. Shut, open, shut, open...Finally he decides there must be something in the mechanism causing it to spring back up each time and leaves it alone. Scully smiles mischievously. "You know, I think I might like this."

"Well, I'm sorry," Mulder tells her, "You only let yourself have a little fun after you're dead."

"Excuse me? I've had plenty of fun in my life. This is just a different kind of fun." She leans over the desk and peers directly at Doggett. "Especially since I have a pretty good idea how his mind operates. He doesn't believe in ghosts. Neither did I, until that Christmas, remember? This will drive him crazy!"

"So, like a cat going for the one allergic person in the room, you hone in on the one non-believer in ghosts to watch him twitch." Mulder laughs, glad that his old friend can still surprise him. "I like it. I always knew you had style. You're just afraid to show it."

Doggett is now actually reading through one of the folders on the desk, as though it's just occurred to him to bother pretending to work. Scully peeks over the top of it to read it upside-down. The days immediately following her death, being invisible had been completely depressing. Now, it's slowing growing on her. Somewhere beneath her buttoned-down, level-headed persona lies an often-neglected imagination, and she's starting to consider the possibilities her new situation might offer rather than focusing solely on what she's lost in the change. "This...could be fun," she admits with a grin. It helps that she already doesn't like this man. If it had been someone worth a sporting chance, it might have been different. However, he'd already insulted both of them, their chosen profession, and their reputation within 10 minutes of entering their space, so this naturally means war. At least to start out, anyway. Once they reestablish their shared office space as _their _domain, then they'd be willing to extend the hand of diplomacy. "Oh, Agent Doggett. I'll make a believer out of you," she croons naughtily.

The newcomer looks over the edge of the desk, reaches right through Scully, and tosses Mulder's name plate aside. Having watched this man violate not only his personal space and possessions, but his partner as well to a certain degree, Mulder jumps into action. Scully scoots off the desk, giving him a reassuring look that she's in no way harmed by his intrusion. Mulder is done playing Mr. Nice Ghost, though. He picks up his nameplate, waves it deliberately in front of Doggett's eyes, and places it back on the desk. Scully straightens it with her finger with a smirk. At this point, the new guy's eyes start out of his head. His hand is on the phone in an instant and he dials a number...

"Assistant Director Skinner's office."

"Yeah, this is Agent John Doggett. I need to speak with him. It's...kind of important."

"Hold, please."

"Ha! Stop the clock. 23 minutes 9 seconds!" Mulder crows while Scully tries to muffle her laughter, more for the sake of appearing ladylike than to avoid being heard.

"This is Skinner. What's the matter, Doggett?"

"Sir...there's something funny about this office."

"Get a can of Lysol from the supply closet. We''ll send in someone about the mold."

"No, I'm not saying it smells funny...well, actually it kind of—never mind that! I'm saying that things are...happening. Unless... Is there anything odd about the light fixtures, or the windows?" He's practically crossing his fingers and pleading for that to be the case. Anything but what it looks like!

Skinner can hardly keep the smile out of his voice as he imagines what his deceased agents might be doing to haze the new recruit. What he wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall down there today! Forcing his voice into an annoyed tone, he asks, "You called me to ask maintenance questions? Why don't you flag down one of the custodial staff?"

Doggett is silent for several seconds, getting the distinct feeling that he's wasting the A.D.'s time with what must be his imagination. "Sorry, sir, I'll get one of them to take a look." He hangs up, looking defeated and dazed.

The two ghosts had been perched on either arm of the chair, leaning in to the receiver during the call; they'd heard the whole thing, and were loudly sniggering at their boss's inclusion in their gag. If anyone can play dumb with a straight face, it's him!

"Atta-boy, Skin Man!" Mulder applauds. He hops up, brings Scully to her feet, and twirls her around before pulling her back next to him. "This...is going...to be great! I feel it! I can totally see why ghosts do this kind of thing!"

"It alleviates the boredom, anyway, makes things a little less depressing," Scully agrees, smirking over at their 'friend'. "And then maybe, just maybe, if he'll listen to us, we can lend a hand from time to time. You know, Mulder, he's the first person I've been around since dying that I'm actually glad he can't see me. Funny, isn't it?"

"It's because you can react to him the way you want to. You're not bound up in having to be polite," he suggests.

His partner nods, "Makes sense. You never know, though. He might start to grow on us."

By that evening, Doggett has abandoned his work for the newspaper again. He happens to glance at the obituaries page and sees some familiar names:

" 'Dana Scully, 36, died from gunshot wound to the back...her partner, Fox Mulder, 40, found dead the next day, unknown causes.' God..." he sighs, looking around the room now. Now putting two and two together he comes to an answer he doesn't like. Still...it's the last probable explanation for all of the weird things that had happened since he set foot in his new office. Sure enough, he sees a discarded pencil cup getting rolled between two unseen entities. Raising his voice slightly, he speaks, holding up the page with their pictures on it. "Is...is this you? Are you...them?" he asks, wincing at his terrible grammar. As if in response, Doggett sees a pencil hover up off the floor and fling itself into the ceiling panel above. "Do that again." Mulder complies, taking only a few seconds longer than the first one. Doggett nods, amazed at what he's seeing. "Now you, you do something," he addresses the empty space across from the invisible pencil-tosser.

Scully is lying on her stomach, her chin in her hand, still fiddling with the pencil cup they'd been toying with. She looks at her partner, now wide-eyed with surprise, as well as being a little peeved, having had the boredom startled out of her. "He's talking to us! But who is he to tell us to do something?! We've been doing stuff to him all day!"

"So show him that it was you," Mulder advises.

Looking rather annoyed at being ordered around like this, she stands up with a sharp sigh. She walks over to the window and moves it up and down, leaving it up when she steps away. On her way back, she gives Doggett a thwap behind the head.

"Ow! What was that for? What am I saying? This is crazy! You're...you're..."

"Ghosts," Mulder says, while Scully writes the word in the dust on the bookcase.

Doggett points wildly around the room, "Both of you, come here. Look at this," he goes back to his desk and holds up the case he'd been going over before boredom and frustration took their toll. "I...I need you. I need your help. Please. Just tell me if this is for real. Look at this here." Both ghosts join him at the desk. Scully reaches in her breast pocket, takes out her reading glasses and slips them on. She stands behind her new officemate and peers at the folder in his hand. Mulder swivels his nameplate around so it faces them, in case Doggett needs further proof of who they are. He and Scully stay unusually close to each other, like they're joined together somehow. They lean in and read over his shoulders. Scully actually takes a sheet of paper out of the file and holds it up to read it better. This is the last piece of evidence that Doggett needs. He looks around him, not seeing anyone but knowing they're there. "They're real, they're real...I have to tell- wait!" He freezes in the act of picking up the phone. He looks around at the empty space around him suspiciously. "Skinner knows about you two...doesn't he? Just tap on the desk. One for yes, two for no." Mulder taps once on the desk.

"Okay, he knows about you. Can you talk?"

Sharing a sad look with her partner, Scully raps on the desk twice. As usual, being reminded she's dead depresses her, and she cuddles up to Mulder. He holds her awhile before remarking "Being dead sure has made you cuddly."

"I just need..."

"I understand," he answers, kissing her hair and rubbing her shoulders. She squeezes him tighter with a strangled sigh.

Agent Doggett snaps to attention, "I heard that! Sounded female...sad..." For the first time that day, he feels something other than irritation or anxiety towards his new workplace. Pity fills his heart as he steps in their shoes for a moment. How lonely and cut off they must be. No wonder they've been making such a spectacle of themselves. They're just proving they still exist, hoping they still matter.

The Spookys look from each other to their new 'partner' "Maybe it's like our touching, we need some force behind it," Mulder suggests.

"Or some feeling."

"What were you feeling?" Mulder asks. Scully shrugs, unable to name the emotion, but it had been strong. "We need to get our guard completely down, we need to _really_ want him to hear us, maybe even see us!"

"He couldn't see us, my own mother couldn't see me!"

Doggett looks between them, faintly hearing them as though from a radio with a weak, patchy signal. He loses just about every other word, but it's enough:

"...has to believe..."

"...think he might..."

"...help?"

"Yes," Doggett answers, "We can help each other. Look, I need you to help me sift through this stuff and get a couple of solves under my belt, and...I don't know, maybe I can help you with whatever unfinished business you guys have. That's why ghosts stay behind, right?

Now, Scully is experimenting, focusing her energy very deliberately, whispering to herself , "See me, see me, see me!" She flickers, then finds herself looking her new office-mate right in the eye.

Doggett wonders if he has any eyelids left by now, the number of times his eyes have seemed to pop out of his head today. Where there had been absolutely nothing, now before him stands a hazy image of a pretty, redheaded FBI agent. He reaches out to touch her but she takes a step back, holding a hand up in a "stop" signal. Her face contorts in an expression of intense concentration, as though gearing up for a great feat of strength. With her eyes squeezed shut, she reaches out her hand towards him. He takes her hand and he hears her gasp, eyes wide open. When they release, they both stare at their own hands, amazed that they could touch each other. Both offer uncertain smiles.

"Now say something," Doggett tells her. "You can do it."

"This is a lot harder than it looks," she shakily responds, before heaving an enormous sigh and vanishing. It sounded like she was dropping something very heavy that she'd been carrying for too long.

Back on their plane, Mulder steadies her, recognizing that the effort has worn her out. "He could see you!?" Scully nods, feeling the hand he had touched and held.

Then, just as it's about time to call it quits for the day, the elevator dings. Moments later, Skinner comes into the room once again, looking all around him. "Agent Doggett, I'm on the way out so I'm going to keep this brief, and I don't want any further discussion on the subject after this. It doesn't leave this room, understand?"

"Uh, yes, sir? What is it?"

"I'm checking in with you to see if you've been...contacted by a couple of...unofficial consultants. I understand they've been...around today?"

Doggett nods, "I think I know who you mean. Yeah. We've made...contact."

"Good. I expect you'll be able to work together with a minimum of unpleasantness." He gives the room a searching glance. "Go easy on him," he mutters as he turns to let himself out. Then he sees Mulder's nameplate spin around so it's facing out again, and feels a hand touch his shoulder. "As you were, agents."

After Skinner leaves, Doggett sinks back down into his chair. "You know, I never would've pegged him as someone who'd believe in-" he stops himself. Mulder had just underlined the word "ghosts" written in dust and added a question mark after it. With a chuckle, Doggett nods, "Yeah. Did you guys visit him, too?" Scully knocks once on the desk. "Is it really that hard to materialize? Or to speak out loud?" Again, she knocks once. "Maybe it's something that'll get easier with practice."

Now Mulder takes a turn; he can tell immediately how much energy this is going to take, so he'll have to keep it short for the first time. "Did it work?"

Doggett nods, trying to stop looking so surprised. He's going to have to get used to this. "Yeah, it worked."

"So you're joining the team?"

Deciding to try again, Scully appears at his side. "Are we a team?" she asks as well. "You help us, we help you?"

"Yeah...but, why me? Why can't you-" before Doggett can finish his question, Mulder gives out and vanishes again. "Why can't you pick someone else?"

"Because you're down here with us." She taps another reserve to stay materialized, but he can see what it's costing her. "I don't think we should show ourselves to anyone else, or we'll have to do it all the time. And it's not easy." To prove this point, she vanishes, too.

"Uh, okay, you two, I'm heading out. Are you staying here or are you going to follow me home, too?" He stops, realizes this wasn't a straight yes-no question, he rephrases it. "Are you staying here?" He hears one knock on the wall. "Good. I mean...see you tomorrow then. Want me to leave the light on?" Again, there's one knock. He then gives the room a wave of farewell and heads home for the night.

As soon as he's gone, Scully hops up on the desk, reaches behind her and picks up a folder. Making and holding contact with things has become much easier with practice. She even starts thinking it might be possible to materialize for longer than a few seconds once she gets her juices flowing. She reads the first few lines and grimaces. Curious, Mulder takes it and flinches as well.

"Looks like your boyfriend's broken loose," he remarks, reading what's strikingly familiar as their old "friend" Eddie Van Blundht's MO. "Three instances, all in a town not ten miles from the facility he was sent to. Think Doggett will like this one?"

"Let's just hope Van Blundht doesn't try to seduce him, huh?"

"You know, I should've gotten some pointers from him when I had the chance. He had you eating out of his hand after one afternoon."

Scully slides off the desk; this topic is definitely embarrassing to her. "I thought he was you, all right? And what's more, I thought you—that is _he—_well, he asked me things, he wanted to hear about my childhood or my stupid high school stories. He listened. It's all I wanted. I..." even after all these years, the memory of that evening is still painful to think about. "He played me like a violin. It's like he knew just what I wanted from you. I'm not saying his intentions were honorable, and frankly it makes me sick to think what could've happened. What _would_ have happened if you hadn't come bursting in. Thanks for not using that against me since."

"Hey, I might be many things but I'm not that big of a jerk. Some guy nearly date-rapes my best friend, I'm not going to make a joke out of it. I couldn't stand to think of what almost happened, either. We'll get him again. And I think...given the circumstances, and our history with the gentleman, and I use the term loosely, we could definitely take an active role." He says evilly, already plotting.

Scully seems right on board, she's smiling again, too, when she thinks of it. "How are we going to get anywhere, though, Mulder? We can only appear where we have a connection."

"Ah, but have we tested the technicalities of it? Maybe we can only just blink and appear someplace we're connected to, but we can walk or ride or somehow convey ourselves to our destination. So instead of worrying about Sandworm Land we're more like Nightcrawler."

She nods, understanding the logic here. "I like Nightcrawler."

"You would, the only X-Man to join the cloth," Mulder sneers. "But seriously, let's try it."

They turn off the light and make sure the door is locked, then they walk right through it. A few flights of stairs later, they're standing outside of headquarters. Both of them hesitate stepping out onto the sidewalk, as though they expect to be whisked away to some other dimension or be met with a barrier, holding them there.

"Ladies first," Mulder gestures in a parody of chivalry.

"And, if you're wrong and I end up in Sandworm Land or a near enough facsimile?"

"I'll come get you. I'm right behind you."

Staring down the last step, as though it's offering a personal challenge to her, Scully grits her teeth and steps down. With a gasp of relief, she makes it out onto the sidewalk. "Come on, I think it's all right." They walk down the sidewalk together, the last rays of sunlight still hang in the sky as night slowly falls. As they get farther and farther away from the building, it's becoming apparent that they're free to roam where they might. They look each other in the eye and seem to have an idea. It will mean going back the way they came, to look in Agent Doggett's personnel file for his address, but both spirits figure they have all of the time in the world. They track him down and slide the case under the door before letting themselves in. Doggett looks up from his spot in the living room, mutes the TV and investigates. He finds the paper in the entry way and barely has the time to ponder how it got there when his "unofficial consultants" materialize before him, making him jump.

"I thought you said you weren't following me home!" he gasps, still clutching his heart. "Warn me before you do that, okay? At least until I get used to this. This was _not _in the job description!"

Scully jabs a finger at the paper in his hand, "We know the guy behind it, we had a previous...encounter with him a few years ago and frankly I'm appalled that he's up to his old tricks again." She then vanishes for a minute, resting up for a second wind. She reappears and continues, "He's a shapeshiftier, poses as someone close to the women he desires. In '97 he fathered five children this way."

"How do you know that for sure? Blood tests?"

"That, and the fact that all of his offspring have tails just like their dad did," Mulder puts in.

Doggett wrinkles his nose, "Tails? A shapeshifting man with a tail, enters women's homes, pretends to be a spouse or loved one, and seduces them...and then they have kids with tails, too?"

"Kind of hard to miss, when you know what you're looking for. According to this, it's happened three more times since his escape. He needs to be stopped," she adds with deadly seriousness before disappearing again. Something about her delivery makes Doggett suspect that this is personal. He wonders if she'd been similarly tricked by this man they're after.

"You've got to bring him down. Just think if he did that to your mother, sister, girlfriend, whoever." Mulder gives a sidelong glance to his partner before continuing. "Because of him, these women probably couldn't look their husbands in the eye for months after finding out what happened." That's taken the last of his energy and he blinks out of sight.

Doggett nods, thinking about the implications. "We have to find this guy. Anything else you know about him?" He gives these two ghosts credit for all they've mastered in the few days since their deaths. Already they can be seen and heard for longer periods of time.

"When he's not impersonating people, he made his living as a maintenance worker, so we're looking for someone along the lines of a janitor or handyman of some sort. He's also a registered sex offender. Whenever we nail the guy, he's facing big trouble," Scully tells him. Then, with a soft sigh, she mutters, "Excuse me," and fades out as well.

By now, Doggett has gotten familiar enough with them over the course of the day, to know that they're still there. He gestures to them to follow him into the living room. "You're both getting better at that. Must be a lot of work, though." This gets a single knock on the coffee table from either side of him. "So, you have a plan of how to bring him to justice? I mean, how will we recognize him if he can appear to be anyone?" No response. They haven't nailed down all of the details yet but they're sure they'll think of something. "All right, let's say we find the guy. Any ideas on how to subdue him?"

There's a moment of silence as they all think about it, then to his right, Doggett hears a rather evil-sounding laugh. It sounds like a female Bond villain! "Agent Scully?" It peters down to giggles, when she finally stops she leans in and whispers to him. "Oh, that's good. Think you can do it?" There's a knock on the table and a rather electrified atmosphere surrounding her.

Not wanting to be left out, Mulder pops back in, "Anyone think of letting me in on the secret?" He asks petulantly. Smirking to himself, Doggett leans in and whispers the plan to Mulder, who looks in Scully's direction with surprise. She fades back into the picture with a kind of hesitant smile, waiting for his approval. Mulder smiles and nods, but is still amazed that this was her idea. "I like it. And, with enough practice, I think you can pull it off."

"So you're not joining in?"

"All we need is a diversion to let you catch him. He's faster than he looks. Now that I think about it, I don't think he'll disguise himself unless he knows he's being hunted down. All we need to do is corner him and let you do your job."

"Well, if he's an escaped convict, wouldn't he know he's being hunted down?" Doggett supposes.

Scully now stands and paces as she works this out. "All he'd have to do is change his appearance enough not to match his police description. I think I could pick him out," she murmurs darkly.

"Is that why you want to corner him single-handed? Or is there a personal matter you're forgetting to mention?"

The two ghosts share a look, then turn back to their new colleague. "He..." she begins, then finds she can't continue. It's bad enough to talk about it with Mulder, but she's just met this man and doesn't feel up to revealing humiliating information. However, it only takes that one word to make Doggett realize that he'd been right. She had been a victim.

"I see. I'm...sorry," he tells her, even as he said it he knew it sounded awkward and inadequate. "We'll get him." Scully nods and then fades out again. Mulder and Scully then leave their new cohort alone for a while to work out the technicalities of their first assignment together. It's going to take a lot of practice and a lot of energy for the effect they're planning on, so they have their share of work ahead of them.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Doggett wakes up, stumbles out into the living room, and in the hazy semidarkness out of the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of his 'consultants' curled up together asleep on the couch. Shaking his head, he goes about his morning routine. "Come on, you two, time to get up! I didn't know you were planning on spending the night. I hope you found the accommodations suitable," he remarks gruffly. "Thanks for being quiet, though. Get a lot of work done?" He gets one knock from each of his house guests. "Ready to roll?" Another knock from them both and they all file out together.

The three of them drive down to the town where the latest series of incidents have taken place. Doggett speaks aloud in his seemingly empty car. "Are you two hoping we just happen across him? And...and then what? Let's say we see him on the way out of Kwik Star or something-" he's interrupted when the warrant for Van Blundht's arrest floats out into sight. "Right, right. And with his previous record we have enough to get him back behind bars."

"Leave it to us," Mulder's disembodied voice says.

They're silent as they roll into town. Doggett is trying to get into the habit of not speaking to his ghostly partners when he's not alone. Scully has been keeping a sharp eye out of her window and suddenly darts out of the still-closed car door. She makes a beckoning gesture to Mulder who conveys it to their living representative, who parks the car and follows at a safe distance. He sees his partner's stride become a deliberate, stalking march as she marks her prey. He's changed his appearance to a degree, but something of him lingers in the eyes and gait. He carries himself like he has a guilty conscience, looking over his shoulder frequently.

"Eddie..." she croons in a low, otherworldly voice, following him so closely she's right behind his ear. "Eddie..."

"Who said that?" He looks around, backing into a blind alley.

"Eddie...Van...Blund_H_t!"

"The H is silent," Eddie stammers habitually in a pathetic whimper, falling more deeply into the trap. "Who said that?!"

"Your conscience!" She hisses, fading in view, but not at all the way she normally looks. She's made herself grey and gaunt and ghastly, her clothes hang black and ragged as she hovers malevolently before him two feet in the air.

Eddie shrieks and jumps back, pointing. "You! Oh god, you!"

She floats nearer, snarling, flickering in and out.. "Me." She hopes the effect comes off as frightening or ethereal, but she's really doing it to rest a bit.

"I never hurt you, we had a good time, remember? We didn't even do anything!"

"You did to me...what you did to all of the others." she growls. "Deception, manipulation, humiliation: is that your idea of a 'good time'?"

Eddie's backed into the wall, now grasping at straws, "We were having a blast, remember?"

"Rape...by...fraud. That's what you would've done, that's what you did to the others. Don't sugarcoat it." Scully growls at him in disgust. Then she lets out a wild shriek and glides up to him. He screams again and runs right through her, out of the alley and right into Agent Doggett.

"'Scuse me, sir. You all right?" he asks, keeping a firm grip on his man. "Someone chasing you? What's your name?"

"Eddie...Eddie Van Blundht," he gasps wildly, throwing caution to the wind.

"Ah. Is that Dutch or something?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so. Wha...wait a second, what are you doing?"

Doggett steers Eddie towards the car, leans up up against it and puts handcuffs on him. "Edward Van Blundht, you are under arrest for breaking out of a correctional facility, multiple counts of rape, accosting a federal agent..." he ducks his head down and shoves him into the back seat, "and having stupid name. Have a nice day."

Eddie looks around at the seat next to him and sees Scully leering at him. He jumps with a yelp and grabs the back of Doggett's seat. "It's her! Get me out of here, please. I'll come quietly, but don't leave me back here with that _thing!_"

"Thing? What are you talking about?"

"There's a...she's...right here..." he whimpers, trying to get as far away from the apparition as possible as she snarls menacingly at him. Mulder sits in front, trying to keep a straight face.

Doggett looks around the car, "I don't see anybody else here, just you and me. You're not to speak for the rest of the trip, understand?"

"Bu-but...it's a...she's a..."

"Now we can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. See, I don't have a problem with doing it the hard way, but my superiors might not like it too much. Forms to fill out, all that crap, it would make me late for the Yankees game, you know? This is the last warning you get so make it count."

Scully fades out again to rest and gives Mulder an OK sign. "Whew! That took a lot out of me."

"I'm not surprised," Mulder replies, turning around in his seat to look her over. "Think you're all right?"

"I'm dead, remember? But yeah, other than that..."

"You were incredible," he pronounces admiringly. He reaches through the car seat and takes her hand as she smiles weakly, still giggling to herself over how well she'd gotten their man. "Bet that was fun."

Scully nods, leaning closer to him, "I'll let you get the next one, okay?"

"Deal."

Then, without warning, Scully materializes again for a split-second and shouts "Boo!" before vanishing again with a wicked cackle her jumpy companion. "I'll stop, I will."

Mulder grins, "He deserves a lot worse than that, you know."

"Well, I'd possess him, but I don't think he'd look good on me."

Her partner agrees with a shake of his head, "Not very flattering. He'd be way too roomy." They both laugh over this, only just audible to Doggett's straining ears, making him crack a smile without knowing why, but definitely sure his new friends are up to something. They bring him to the police station where he's processed, slated to go right back home sweet home to prison. A solve this fast will be a major feather in Agent Doggett's cap, and all three of them know it.

As they drive back home, he ponders aloud how he's going to word his report. "Don't worry," Scully says, "We've done this before. You'll learn."

"I just wish I could tell them what really happened. I wish I could've seen it. You'll have to show me when we get back."

Scully fades into view and smiles, allowing herself to be flattered, "I could be up for a reenactment, as long as you don't get scared," she teases. She vanishes without another word and the trip back is passed in silence. They get back to Doggett's place, the two ghosts change into their casual wear as Doggett does the same in his bedroom.

"All right," he says, looking like he's ready for a show, "Let's see what had that guy run screaming into the streets."

It takes a minute for her to power up, she had conserved her strength by not bothering to materialize up until now, knowing that she'd need it later. Doggett feels the air around him charge, a rather ominous feeling settling in his stomach, a physical reaction to heavy ghostly activity. It only adds to his anticipation. Suddenly there's a _crack _and the air is split with lightning and peals of thunder, Scully appears dramatically, hovering over the floor, bearing down on her new colleague in her most grisly manner, shrieking like a banshee. Despite having been in on the plan, Doggett jumps back, holding his arms up to ward her off. Then she stops, floats back down to the floor and changes back to her usual self, laughing again at her success. "You should've seen the look on your face!"

"That?! _That's_ what you did to him? No wonder he came bolting out of there! I'd send myself to prison, too, just to be safer!" He's a little embarrassed that she'd gotten a reaction out of him, but he has to laugh about it, too. A good scare can be fun. Unsurprisingly, Scully has worn herself out again with her frightening display and fades out. Mulder pulls out a chair for her which she sinks into gratefully.

Mulder looks impressed, too. "I would never have thought you had it in you. If we'd have gotten it on camera we could've sent it into World's Dumbest Criminals."

"Nah, we don't want to get on TV with this," Doggett waves the suggestion aside. "I don't think all of our cases will need to be handled this way, but what a way to start!"

"In with a bang," Mulder agrees before vanishing as well. He crouches over by Scully, who is still recovering. "You all right?" She doesn't answer. "I think you overdid it, we need to get you some energy.

"How?"

"I don't know, something with a good EM field."

"The microwave?" Scully suggests.

"Got it." Mulder heads into the kitchen, finds a coffee mug sitting on the drying rack in the sink, and fills it with water from the tap. After resting for a few seconds, he carries it over to the microwave, puts it in for 3 minutes on high. Doggett watches, utterly nonplussed at what's going on in his home. As the microwave runs, Mulder goes back to check on Scully and is happy to see that she's improving considerably. She's soon revived enough to materialize again.

"I needed the energy," she explains shortly, gesturing into the kitchen. "That...that feels great, actually. That's much better! Thank you," She sighs and fades out again to fully replenish.

Getting the idea, Doggett goes around the room, turning on as many electrical appliances as he can find. The cable box, his desktop computer, the stereo...by now, even Mulder is feeling the effects, finds himself similarly fortified by the excess energy. He reappears at Doggett's side, "Thanks, that's a big help."

The next morning, Doggett comes downstairs, flips on the lights, and strides in. He doesn't feel anything as he makes his way to the desk, but he hears a sharp, female squeal of alarm. He jumps back, "Sorry, didn't see you there."

The next second, his two deceased partners partially fade into view. They're lying on the floor, curled up together, having obviously been enjoying themselves in the early morning hours. "It's all right, didn't hurt. Just not the best start to the day to get stepped through," Scully tells him calmly. She shares a smoldering gaze with her fellow ghost, he kisses her and stands up, suddenly (thankfully) dressed. Doggett looks from one to the other, his eyes lingering on Scully for a moment longer before he turns away.

Mulder's seen the whole thing and isn't pleased. "I've seen the way you look at her," he says warningly. Doggett opens his mouth in his defense but is cut off- "Don't. Just...don't."

Scully had been having fun creating different articles of clothing out of mere thought, but often finds ones she actually remembers from her life are easier to conjure up. She slips into a dressing gown, sits up and hugs her knees, giving Mulder an irritated look.

Meanwhile, Doggett is trying to clear his name, "I didn't _look _at her, if I saw her I couldn't help that."

"Then you deny you find her attractive?"

As if he needs to refresh his memory, he peeks around for a fresh glimpse of the woman in question, "Of course I think she's attractive, I'm not blind. I'm not going to do anything about it, though. I don't think she'd want me to, either, to be honest."

Mulder is still unconvinced, letting jealousy get the better of him. "Yeah?"

"Want my two cent's worth, or should I just sit here and watch you gentlemen posture? Because it seems that you've forgotten a few things, Mulder," Scully levels on him. "Not even mentioning anything from this morning when we were rather abruptly interrupted—no hard feelings, Doggett, but you did walk in on us, literally—but I seem to remember _refusing to go to Heaven _to stay with you. As well as any of the numerous occasions from years past that should be enough to convince you of my loyalty to you. But I suppose that all goes out the window when some guy looks at me the wrong way." Standing now, she tugs on her lapels and her robe is replaced with a crisp navy blue suit. "Your opinion of me is so very flattering," she growls sarcastically before popping out of view.

By now, Doggett is just surprised that Mulder can stay visible for that long, but he supposes the activity he'd walked in on had been energizing enough to sustain him. "Mulder, your partner is a lovely, charming woman who I'm really glad to have known and befriended, but I'm not checking her out or making overtures here. I _can't_ do anything more than look, but I wouldn't even if I could. First of all, it's pretty obvious that you two are very close; I'm not a home-wrecker, particularly among the dead. Secondly, ghost or not, Scully would chop my balls off if I tried to make a move. You have nothing to worry about. I don't think she'd pick me over a trip to Heaven. She did with you."

His anger abated, Mulder fades out to speak to Scully privately. "I must look like a first-class jerk." Scully nods in agreement. "I...I just...you're all I have, I don't want to lose you."

"You won't. You can't. You're really great at making something out of nothing, Mulder. If I'd caught him leering at me I would've done something about it. It's just silly. Besides, in case I need to remind you, we're dead! If you caught him staring, it's probably because seeing dead people takes some getting used to. So quit it, huh, Spooky?" She gives him a teasing grin.

"All right...Mrs. Spooky." They share a laugh and start getting cozy again.

Despite being unable to see or hear them, or any evidence of what they're up to, Doggett has a pretty good idea that they've made up. "Don't mind me, I just work here," he calls out into the room. For the rest of the day he has very little contact from them, he supposes that Scully is keeping away to avoid another misunderstanding, and Mulder is to avoid giving an apology. Suddenly needing some time away from these two, Scully decides to try something out. "I'll be back in a little while," she tells Mulder before reaching upwards, stretching out her fingers to the ceiling, closing her eyes. Soon she is floating off the ground. She passes through the ceiling, going a few floors up until she reaches Skinner's office. She settles herself down in a seat at the conference table, swivels it around and just watches him.

Skinner had seen the chair move, but doesn't say anything. It could just as easily have been the wind. It was another nice day and he had his windows open to enjoy the fresh air. Still, his eyes stray to the chair just a few feet away from him, wondering.

Scully herself is unsure of why she came here, but she just sits there, her chin in her hand, gazing at her superior. She supposes she needed a break from the men downstairs, that needed alone-time she and Mulder had talked about. Also, despite his improved attitude, Agent Doggett still was someone she could only take in short doses. She likes him, in her own way, but doesn't want to end up being treated like another feature of the office. Plus, she figures this will give Mulder a chance to own up for his jealousy. So Scully retreated to someplace she knew would bring her the peace and quiet her soul desperately needed. She's glad he doesn't know she's there, she'd be self-conscious if he did. Now she can just sit and rest a bit.

Skinner looks up again in the direction of the char he'd seen move, stands up and twists the blinds a little to account for the rising sun. For a split-second, the light catches something but it's gone in an instant. He knows what he's seen, though, who he's seen. "Come to report in?" he asks, hands on his hips and facing the window again. He looks over his shoulder in hopes of catching another glimpse of her. "Doggett recaptured a guy that you and Mulder nailed three years ago. Interesting read, actually. Either prison made him become mentally unglued or his conscience finally kicked in. Says the man insisted he'd seen the ghost of one of his victims. Did you have anything to do with that?"

Scully thinks it over before knocking once on the table, smiling as she anticipates his reaction. Sure enough, he jumps at the sound, looking around the room. "Did you just knock?" She rolls her eyes and does it again. "Is Mulder here, too?" She knocks twice, hoping he can crack the code without her help. "One for yes, two for no," he mutters. "So, what, did you come up here just to enjoy the view?" Scully cracks a shy smile and knocks once. She actually seems to regret that he knows she's there, it will certainly put a strain on the rest of the visit. Maybe once he gets back to what he was doing he'll forget that she's there. He settles back down at his desk, turning his attention back to Doggett's report on the Van Blundht situation, shaking his head in amusement. He'd credited anonymous informants with assisting him in the capture, but maintained that he'd given himself up quietly. They sit together, quietly, not really needing to say anything.

About an hour later, Mulder comes into the office to find her curled up on the chair, swaying lazily back and forth. He walks over to her and runs his hand through her hair, leaning over her. "Hey," he greets her. She smiles back at him, done being annoyed. "You came up here for some quiet time? Good place for it," he acknowledges, looking over at Skinner. "Come on back down whenever, we're not fighting."

"And it won't happen again?" she prompts pointedly, sitting up and crossing her arms over her chest.

"It won't happen again," he promises, offering his partner a hand to help her stand up.

"You two can act like civilized adults and not a couple of posturing Neanderthals?"

Mulder gives her a three-fingered salute, "Scout's honor."

The two exit together, Mulder bringing up the rear with his hand at Scully's back. "Elevator, going down," he speaks into the open hallway, the two share a smirk and float back downward through the floor toward their den. Halfway there, they decide to make a detour to the bullpen, just for old time's sake. Once there, they find that they're the subject of the gossip mill once again-

"Weird, isn't it, that they died on the same day like that. They never did figure out what killed Agent Mulder," they hear an agent they know by face but not by name rehash, "I think it was a murder-suicide pact." Both ghosts roll their eyes in disbelief at that idea; it reminds them of their old "friends" Lyda and Maurice. "Or maybe with the only person who took him seriously gone, he figured there wasn't anything left for him to live for and just-" he slices his finger across his throat, getting egged on by his companions.

Another agent, however speaks up on behalf of the dead, "Hey, guys, show some respect. I mean, sure, they were a little..."

"Spooky?" the first man suggests, followed by general sniggering.

"Seriously, they were good people. Lay off."

"What's the matter, Agent Winter? Afraid they'll haunt the place and come after us?"

Scully decides that this is their cue, "It's showtime." She rubs her hands together, then brings them up over her head, drawing energy from the fluorescent lights and making them flicker ominously. Everyone in the room looks up, startled. Some of them point upwards and mutter that they knew this would happen. The blinds flick open and closed. The table they'd been congregating around hadn't been used for some time, and had a fine coating of dust on it. The agents watch with growing panic as the word BOO appears.

"Boo?" Mulder reads incredulously. "The best you can do is 'boo'?"

"What?" Scully demands defensively, "What's the matter?"

Adopting a tone of a soapbox speaker, Mulder places a hand around his partner's shoulder "Scully, _how_ are we going to better ghost/living relations if you insist on playing into cultural stereotypes? You're better than that. Do you want these guys to think we wander around draped with chains and sheets over our heads?"

Scully actually looks offended at the idea."No," she answers seriously.

"Then try again!"

Scully figures he has a point, wipes out the word "boo" and thinks for a second of what to put instead. "Still here" is then drawn in neat, pretty cursive on the table, making all of the surrounding agents look at each other. In the far corner of the room, the water cooler starts to run by itself, splashing onto the floor. By now, the room's occupants are huddled together for safety, glaring accusingly at the one who'd been bad-mouthing the deceased moments before. Then, it stops. The blinds go back up, the lights come back on, the writing on the table is wiped out and the ghosts leave. The only evidence of their activity is a small pool of water near the cooler. Just when the others start trying to convince themselves they'd imagined it, Mulder slams the door hard behind them! "That was good. That was very good. Hey Scully?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for staying with me. It wouldn't have been half as much fun without you." Scully smiles, bumps shoulders with him, and walks out by his side.

They go back into their office, peek over Doggett's shoulder to see what he's looking at. "What's he doing?" Scully wonders out loud, "Going through all of our previous cases?"

"Looks like he's decided to take the job seriously. I think we need to get him in touch with the Lone Gunmen. Gotta pass on the torch, right?"

She nods, "How do we do that? If we just sent him down to their headquarters, they'd be pretty tight-lipped. Might even pull a massive data-dump, thinking the Feds are after them." Mulder paces the room, scratching his chin. They're both silent for a while as they think this through. Then he looks up at his partner in a way she doesn't like at all. "What? You've got a strange look in your eye."

Mulder tops it with an evil grin, "I was just thinking..."

"Don't hurt yourself," Scully mutters, unable to resist.

"Ha ha. Just for that, I'm not sorry for what I'm about to suggest."

This definitely has her worried, she even backs a few paces away from him with a raised eyebrow of suspicion. "Suggest what?"

"Oh, nothing. Just..." Mulder lets it hang annoyingly before continuing. "Well, between the two of us, which one do you suppose any of the guys are more likely to dream about?"

Scully's expression of comfortable irritation changes to horror in about a second. "Oh, no," she says blankly.

"Oh yes," Mulder smirks.

She holds up her hands and shakes her head firmly, "I am _not_-"

"Well, how else are we supposed to make contact?

Scully glowers, gesticulating meaninglessly in her frustration, "You...you...Fine! But if I end up in a 'slave-girl Leia' outfit in the process, that is _it! _I should probably be afraid of what else they dream about."

As another day draws to a close without incident, Doggett leaves work for the night, giving the eerily inactive room a general farewell. He stops halfway out the door and adds, "Drop on in if you want, I don't have plans so if you want to go over this together..." he holds up another manilla folder, twitching it in his hand significantly. "You're welcome to stop by. Or, you know, you could come along now, if you want. If there's nothing else you need to do around here."

This strikes the ghosts as strange, it makes them wonder what sort of a life their new colleague leads. Might he have such a solitary existence that he'd welcome even the company of a couple of ghosts? Or maybe it was just that he knew they wouldn't look down their noses at his work, and could be useful to have around. Scully stands up and materializes for him. "Sure, we just might take you up on that. Thank you."

Doggett nods, being careful not to pay her too much attention with her jealous partner close at hand. He can't deny how attractive she is, both physically and otherwise. She's someone he would've liked to know in life. Something tells him, though, that they would've been at odds with each other if their working relationship had been a conventional one. They're both strong-willed, stubborn; not qualities that mix well with another with the same traits. They follow him out, both of them sit in the back seat of his car on the way to his house. They arrive and make themselves comfortable, the three of them seem glad of their strange companionship.

They look over the spread of papers on the coffee table; there had been a series of cases of stolen bank information. All among older people, fairly new to using the internet. Fortunately, it wasn't too widespread yet. They read through various testimonials from people, it seems they were all sent the same email. They'd contracted the same computer virus unawares and only found out that it had taken control of their account information when their statements arrived in the mail. Mulder and Scully sharing a significant look. Scully tries to brush it off. "How do we even know when they sleep? Or _if_ they sleep? I mean..."

"I really think they'd be able to help with this. Just check, please?"

"It's still early," Scully observes, pointing to the wall clock which reads just after 6.

"Come on, you know how the guys are. They're up at odd hours, they sleep at odd hours. Maybe one of them is nodding off as we speak.

Scully looks irritated, mutters "Fine!" She then appears to Doggett, saying "I'm going to be gone for a little while, I'm going to try to get ahold of some people who could lend a hand here. They're better at this computer business than we are."

"Sure," Doggett nods, "Go ahead. Good luck."

"Thanks. I'll need it." and she disappears again. She closes her eyes and reaches out with her mind, not sure if she hopes more that she'll make contact or that she won't. Just when she's about to give up, she feels a door open and she steps through it-

She finds herself in a dimly-lit room, with a man's arms snugly around her. Whoever is there is tenderly cuddling her, kissing her neck. She gratefully notes that they're both still fully dressed.

"What's going on?! Get off!" She cries out pushing the person away.

Whoever it is pulls her closer, drawing her face up to his for some rather sloppy kisses. "Don't spoil it," a familiar voice begs, "I never got to do this before it was too late." He punctuates this by forcing her mouth to his in another smooch. _Langly? Oh, great. _She thinks.

"Mmm-" in that instant, she finds her will has slipped. There's an urge to follow along with the fantasy. Before she can stop herself, Scully is kissing back, feeling flushed and warm. "Mmm...stop it, please," she murmurs, purring throatily into his ear, feeling herself irresistibly drawn into the vixenish character her friend imagines her to be. "I...have to...talk to you...about something," she manages to say between lazy, lingering kisses. Having never been in a dream where she was not the dominant party before, it's rather disturbing to find that she can be so readily bent to someone else's will. "It's...important."

"Hush now, my lovely. Just hush. It can wait." He claims her lips again, smoothing her hair back and drawing his hands down her shoulders and back. He takes one of her hands and strokes it against his cheek.

Still fighting to the last, Scully scoots back, "Stop. Stop it!" She wrenches herself away from his control, slapping him hard in the face.

"Now that wasn't supposed to happen!" Langly exclaims, finally backing off, surprised to find his dream suddenly outside of his control.

The spell is utterly broken and Scully is herself again. She gets up and backs several paces away until she can ascertain that her contact isn't going to pursue her. "Langly, it's me. Really. It's Scully. I died four days ago. You carried my body into the church. You played Queen in Mulder's hearse. We're still here and we haven't left our post. If you have anything besides primal, animal intentions towards me I would really appreciate your help." He sits there, dumbfounded. "We have a replacement to break in. We've made contact and he's ready to accept full induction. That includes you three. He needs your help."

Langly stammers,"I'm really sorry, Scully...I just...wanted..." He turns away, unable to look her in the eye.

Scully doesn't want to admit it, but her friend's sudden bashfulness is kind of endearing. It proves that what he says is true, that he really is sorry for what just happened. Still, she can't go soft on him now, or he'll think he can get away with it again. "I think I have a good idea of what you wanted, thank you very much," she interrupts sharply, scrubbing her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I mean it," Langly insists, stepping towards her. When she pulls farther away, he lets his hands drop to his sides. "I've always loved you, Dana."

Scully looks up, blushing in spite of herself. "You what? Oh, brother," she huffs impatiently, turning away from him with a toss of her head and a roll of her eyes. She crosses her arms over her chest and keeps her eyes averted towards the ceiling, half talking to herself, "Of all the...you, too? You people...You've all known me for how long, and you wait until I kick the bucket to say anything. Look. All that aside, I'm probably not going to come back here again so you'd better listen up."

"I mean it, Scully. Please. I'll never do it again."

"But is that...what you think of me?" In the midst of feeling used and objectified, a small part of her is flattered by his rather imaginative interpretation of their relationship. She hasn't seriously thought of herself in the physical sense for some time, and is only generally aware that she isn't bad-looking. For as long as she'd been in the Bureau, and even before that, she hadn't allowed herself to be perceived as particularly feminine; too many people would have underestimated her, or shielded her from gory scenes as though she was a delicate flower. She'd had to prove early on that she could get as down and dirty as any of the men. After fighting it for so long, for someone who's known her cold-as-ice facade to see her as a warm, sensual, attractive person came as rather a shock. As flattering as it may potentially be, Scully would've rather he demonstrated his feelings in a more honorable manner, but she figures it's true to his character. At least he'd spared them the ridiculous cosplay getups she would've expected from him. Also, it hadn't escaped her notice that he hadn't dreamed up anything more hard core than playing Seven Minutes in Heaven at a junior high sleepover. It makes her briefly wonder how much experience he actually had where women are concerned.

The lights come up and the strange room changes into the Lone Gunmen's headquarters. They're dressed normally, for all appearances it's just as though they're having an ordinary meeting together. "You know I hold you in utmost respect," he tells her earnestly, although his lingering eyes betray his desire.

"That's not all you want to hold me in, apparently."

"So...you have a new recruit?" Langly questions, changing the subject to tamer waters. He hopes that it will distract her enough to make her forget to be angry with him.

"Uh, yeah. We have a few instances that would really benefit from your attention."

"Sure, sure. We'll see what we can do. You know you can count on us to keep up the good fight. I mean, now that you and Mulder are...God, I just can't believe it, though!" He sinks down into a chair, looking up at Scully almost helplessly. "You guys can't be dead. I mean, they never figured out what happened to Mulder, but you...shot in the back. That p'taQ," he mutters disdainfully. "Didn't even have the guts to do it face-to-face. What a coward. You deserved a more honorable death than that, Scully."

Privately, she agrees, and she's touched that he thinks so. There's no way to answer that, though, so she just shrugs noncommittally. "I, uh, wanted to see you in person before sending him over, since we figured you wouldn't be too keen to cooperate with someone...outside of the family, if you will." She'd only meant it as a figure of speech, but as soon as she said it she realizes that, strange though they may be, they _are _family. As much as she enjoys expressing irritation with the Lone Gunmen, she cannot deny the respect and even fondness she feels for them as well. They're as close to her as she's allowed anyone else to get, more so than her own brother. The expression that blood is thicker than water has been rather misinterpreted by some, as it was originally meant to convey that those who _shed_ blood together, not necessarily _shared_ blood, were considered more important to each other.

"Yeah, you're right about that. Good to know he has your seal of approval."

Scully rocks back and forth on her feet, nodding uncomfortably. "So, it's okay to send him on down then?"

"Yeah, that'll be fine. Look...if there's any way I can make it up to you...I mean from earlier..."

Shaking her head, Scully waves off his offer. "Just help him," she says shortly, then vanishes.

The second she reappears in Doggett's house, Mulder jumps at her, eager for her report. "Well? How did it go?"

Heaving a sigh, Scully brushes herself off, as though to rid herself of any residual boy-germs she might've picked up in dreamland. "I found out something _very_ important, Mulder. Although, the way you threw me to the wolves, or wolf, rather, I'm half tempted to keep it to myself."

"What? What happened?"

Her threat had been an empty one, and she reports calmly, "Did you know that if you're in someone's dream and they're the dominant party, they can make you do things? Control you?" She doesn't bother waiting for an answer. "I just got back from a rather...vivid dream of Langly's, who as you predicted was quite predisposed to dreaming about me." She looks up at her partner significantly, he can see a blush still lingering on her face, he also just notices that her hair is messed up and she looks rather shaken.

"Did he hurt you?" He asks seriously.

Scully purses her lips and shakes her head shortly, giving a brief warding gesture. "I'm fine," she mutters habitually. "He...he wanted me to come to him willingly, so I did. I couldn't help it." Scully tries to keep her humiliation guarded beneath an impassible exterior, but Mulder knows better.

"What did he do? What..what did he _make_ you do?" He's certain he doesn't want to know the answer to this, but he has to.

"It wasn't bad," she promises, "It was just a bunch of kissing. And...he _really_ wanted me to enjoy it. He was so embarrassed when he found out it was really me. He was really sorry. He didn't mean for it to happen."

"So you're letting him off the hook?"

Scully smirks slyly, "Oh, I never said I'm letting him off the hook." Mulder leans in, interested. "I know it was just a dream, and he didn't mean it and didn't harm me, so I'm not planning any _serious _revenge...besides, I should've known better than to jump into a dream of someone who had a crush on me. Still, I think the situation calls for something to be done."

"I'm listening."

Scully mock-pouts, giving Mulder a playful shove, "Oh, but don't you want to be the one to defend my honor?"

When she puts it that way..."I read you loud and clear."

"Nothing too bad. Promise me that."

Mulder claps a hand over his heart, "I swear on my own grave that I won't hurt Langly. I'll just mess with him some."

"Good." Then she fades into Doggett's vision, "You're clear to go visit our friends. They're willing to lend a hand. I'd keep them on file, if I were you, actually. They can be very versatile contacts, Agent Doggett."

"John," he gruffly corrects, "My name's John. We're off the clock."

Scully smirks, thinking of how she and Mulder have worked together on and off the clock for all these years and never called each other anything but their last names. Still, she nods, repeating, "John." It strikes her then how much the name suits him. A solid, everyday wear-and-tear kind of name. "I...haven't been called by my first name much in a very long time. Just one person still uses it and that's my mom. I don't talk to her much these days. Especially now that I'm dead," she adds, as though it's just occurred to her again. It's easy to forget, sitting here and talking like everything is normal.

"You want to bring that number up to two?"

The rarity of its use has made it especially significant. It would represent a closeness that she isn't sure she's ready for just yet. Still, it could be nice. She nods a little hesitatingly,"While we're off the clock," she agrees. "I'm Dana."

Mulder's voice cuts in unseen, "No offense, but I think I'll break the streak here. Nobody uses my first name," he announces stubbornly.

Scully nods in agreement, "Don't even think about it, not even to be funny or cute," she warns. "He hates his name."

"I'll keep that in mind. Anything I need to know about these friends of yours?"

Smiling over at Mulder, then turning back to Doggett, Scully offers, "Yeah. Tell them that you need their kung-fu. Then they'll know for sure that we sent you." Then she disappears.

"Thanks for the tip. I'll take it from here"


	5. Chapter 5

Mulder stands, brings Scully to her feet as well, "Come with me."

"Where?"

As usual, he can guess her train of thought, even below the surface, "You're lonely. We're going to pay your mother a visit."

"Mulder...she can't see us."

"If we want her to-"

"I know that, that's exactly my point! We can't show ourselves to her, especially not her. If I do it once, she'll want me around all the time. I know we've gotten better at materializing lately, but I still wouldn't have the energy to be on call like that!"

Mulder thinks this over and has to agree. "We could just drop in. Do a few tricks to let her know we're there. She'll want to know how you've been doing."

"Okay," she finally agrees.

They vanish together and reappear in her mother's house. For a while, they just watch her. It's obvious that she's still grieving her freshest loss to her dwindling family. She's looking through photo albums, revisiting the times when everyone was alive and well, happy and together. She then feels something—someone-touch her hand.

"Dana?"

Scully sits next to her mother and brushes her cheek gently. "I'm here, Mom," she murmurs, not trying to be heard, content just to sit with her for a while.

"Tell Fox I'm sorry for not letting him in the other day. When I woke up, I felt really bad about it. How lonely it must be for you." On her other side, she feels a hand on her shoulder, it feels larger than the one that had touched her before. She turns towards the source of the touch. "I really am sorry. You take good care of Dana, now. No fighting, okay?" She feels the hand pat her back, which she takes as confirmation of her request. "I hope you're getting along with the new resident of your office. Dana, you said you had some tricks up your sleeve if he rubbed you the wrong way. Did you end up doing anything to him?" Margaret wonders if it's her imagination, but she almost thought she heard a short laugh. "You did, didn't you? Oh, you two. Well, as long as it's good, clean fun it can't be too harmful. "I hope you're both doing all right. It's nice to know you're not far. I miss you, terribly, but I'm glad you stuck around. I hope you can go on someday, but I think it's good for you, too, that you stayed."

They remain there for an hour; touching, tapping, maintaining the fact that they're there. Scully gazes at her mother, both women look depressed and lonely. They're together, but separated. Mulder already has enough experience with this to know that Scully will really need a hug after this, and so he stays close for whenever she feels the need to cuddle.

They're jolted out of their cozy atmosphere by a knock at the door. Maggie gets up and answers it, welcoming in her son. "Bill, I didn't even know you were in town today!"

"Well, with all that's happened, I wanted to come see you. How...are you handling everything?"

"I'm doing all right, really. Listen, you won't believe this but..." She draws him further into the house by the hand, gesturing to the seemingly empty living room. "Bill, they're _here_!"

Bill looks around, now looking concerned for his mother's grip on reality. "Who's here?"

"Dana's here! She brought Fox along, too! You can't see them, but they stayed!"

Giving his mother a pitying look, he nods indulgently. "Sure, Mom, whatever helps."

"You don't believe me, do you? Go on, Dana, show him you're here." She turns to the sofa and gives it an encouraging look.

Mulder and Scully look at each other, unsure of what they should do. Soon enough, though, Bill makes their decision a lot easier. "Mom, we're going through something big here, and I understand if you need to hang onto her. I still can't believe she's really gone yet. I told her...a hundred times I told her that all the business she was in would get her killed. And that Fox Mulder..." he sneers in distaste. Then out of nowhere he flinches, feeling like he'd just been slapped in the face. Even Mulder looks surprised that Scully had sprung to his defense like that. She isn't finished yet, not by a long shot. Mulder sits back and watches the show as Bill gets smacked and kicked around by his dead little sister. The only thing holding her back from doing any serious harm is the fact that her mom is watching and aware of what's happening. If there hadn't been an audience she may have lost control completely.

"Dana, that's enough! We both know that what he said isn't true. Now, Bill, apologize to her."

He still looks at his mother as though she's crazy. "Apologize? _I_ have to apologize?! Mom...if that's what I think it was...what _you_ think it was.."

"Your sister isn't a 'what', Bill. Now take it back. She told me the whole thing. She'd just been out grocery shopping, it didn't have anything to do with work or with Mulder. In case you've forgotten, he died that same night, too! Died of a broken heart of all things. So don't blame him."

"Unless you want to get your ass kicked by a ghost again," Mulder remarks, drawing Scully back down next to him to calm her. He turns to her, stroking her back, "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"All right, all right...Dana, if you're really here...I'm sorry. I just...I didn't want you to die. You came so close so many times...when it happened I was angry. I needed someone or something to blame. Mulder, if you're here, too...take care of her, all right? Not that anything much can happen to you now."

The next day, Mulder, Scully, and Doggett head out to see the Lone Gunmen. He knocks on the door and he's greeted by the trio he's heard so much about. Taking his cue from his ghostly companions, he announces himself thusly: "John Doggett, FBI. I am in need of your kung-fu."

The three computer nerds look among themselves and give the OK. "Come on in," Langly invites. "Scully told us you were coming."

"Yeah, she mentioned that," Doggett replies, "Next time she drops in, keep your hands to yourself."

The other two look at the blond-haired man with raised eyebrows and stifled coughs. "So are they really...did...I mean..." Byers flounders.

"The Spookys, are they with you?" Frohike asks abruptly, leaning against a table.

"Spookys?" Doggett asks. He looks around himself, where his phantom friends had last been felt, "People really called you that?" There's a knock on the table next to where Frohike is standing. The little man jumps a mile and stares warily at the table. "Did these guys call you that, too?" Two knocks sound, now from the other side, keeping everyone on their toes.

"They're here! They're really here!" Byers gasps, in joyous surprise that his friends weren't completely gone.

"She's gonna kill me," Langly mutters, keeping far away from where the knocking had been heard. "She's dead but she'll find a way." To reassure him that this isn't true, Scully taps twice on the desk nearest him. Doggett smirks, and translates. "I think she means no. But don't push your luck." He can't deny that he's already grown fond of Agent Scully, and once again he's hit with regret that he hadn't known her while she was alive. He imagines the look she must have on her face. From what she'd told him about the work these three men had done with them, Doggett has no trouble imagining the whole group in action. It must be great, he thinks to himself, to have people like that. People who despite any hard times they might give each other, still care about each other at the end of the day, and are willing to help whenever they can. It serves to remind him again of how alone he is. Through his law enforcement career he'd lost enough friends to jade him against the idea of going through it again. Then he found his seemingly solitary office to be haunted by its former inhabitants. Here were people he didn't have to worry about losing—they were already dead! They'd only known each other for a few days, but somehow it's enough. Without realizing it, he'd opened a place in his heart for the two ghosts.

Byers approaches the new recruit, "So...Mulder and Scully sent you?" He tries to make it sound like it's perfectly normal to have been referred by two deceased agents. "What can we help you with?"

From there, the two ghosts step back and just watch. They stand off to the side, hand in hand, watching their replacement slot in with their cohorts. With the strange sudden clarity that comes with being dead, both are filled with love for their friends. They simply gaze at them benignly, not bothered by the separation, just happy to watch them work their "kung-fu". They listen as the Gunmen recount some of their tales to the new guy, both ghosts observe with pleasure their replacement's reaction to their friends. After a typical all-nighter together, they're able to resolve the matter and bring yet another criminal to justice. Should he slip through the noose of legal justice, the Gunmen even have a backup plan up their sleeves. Suffice to say, he'd be better off paying his debt to society than to get on these guys' bad sides.

Just as they're wrapping things up, Doggett's spiritual assistants sidle up to him for a word. He leans in and grins as the hears their whispered request. "It's worth a shot. Now, that's a nice idea. Gotta be a first, though. Think anyone here can do it? What am I saying?" he ends up muttering to himself. "Hey, guys, this might sound like a silly question, but are any of you in any way ordained?"

With a jerk of his head, Byers tells him, "Langly is, Universal Life Church okay?"

"Fine with me," Doggett answers, getting a knock from either side of him in agreement. "These two want to get married."

"Can ghosts do that?" Frohike wonders out loud. "Well, with the Reverend Lord Manhammer presiding anything's possible."

"So you want a full ceremony or the quick version?" Langly asks, followed by heavy silence.

"You have to ask it as a yes/no question, speaking out loud is tough for them. You guys want the whole enchilada?" There's a moment of silence as they confer amongst themselves. Scully knocks twice on the table. "Short version's okay, then?" She knocks once. "Sounds good. Kind of anticlimactic but..." And they all gasp as the lights flicker and Scully appears before them in a simple sleek white dress. Mulder appears in one of his regular suits. They flicker a bit before drawing extra energy from the nearby equipment. It'll be enough to sustain them for a short wedding. The Gunmen all stare, slack-jawed, totally at a loss. Luckily, Doggett knows better how long their friends can hold onto a visible form. "Better make it fast, 'Lord Manhammer', they can't stay in sight forever. Need a book or notes or something or are you just going to wing it?"

Langly clears his throat, trying to stop gaping at the two ghosts and get down to business. "Uh...dearly beloved, we are gathered here to witness the union of these two...souls, in the bonds of holy matrimony..." Somehow he has the standard spiel down by heart. When he comes to the vows, he finds it doesn't quite fit and so he makes them up as he goes along: "Do you, Dana, take this man as your husband; to have, hold, and haunt with forever and ever?" Either she doesn't have the strength or she's too overcome with emotion to speak, but Scully simply nods, giving the table a tap to confirm. He asks it of Mulder now, Langly looks markedly uncomfortable at using his friends' first names. Mulder also answers in the affirmative. "Then, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife."

The newlyweds kiss and fade from sight. "This has to be a first," Scully observes to her new husband. "Have you ever heard of people waiting until they're dead to get married?"

"It was one for the books, that's for sure. Too fast for you? We kind of skipped being engaged."

Scully shakes her head, gazing up at him with a slight smile. "I don't think we needed to bother with that. I kind of wish..." her smile fades, her eyes drooping down in sorrow, "I wish we weren't dead."

"Me, too," Mulder tells her, running a hand through her hair. "We waited way too long."

"I didn't make it easy. I'm sorry for my part of it. It was just too much at the time, everything we had to worry about. There wasn't time. I wanted it, thought of it often...but the way things were..."

"I understand. It was the same for me, too. God, what I wouldn't have given to be able to take us away from all that. Just to vanish and get real jobs, go into hiding and start fresh."

"I couldn't have done that to you. It wasn't just your quest; it was mine, too. At least we have now. So much for 'til death do us part'. Not even death parted us."

And so things start to fall into a routine: occasionally when Skinner would have the grace to dream of one or both of them, they'd report in and talk to him. He was equally surprised and pleased to hear about their unorthodox wedding. Her mother's reaction was similar, but definitely more sorrowful. As happy of news as a wedding might be, the nature of it only reminded her of how 'gone' her daughter is. Everyone concerned enjoys their occasional nighttime meetings, their ability to appear and speak and interact, but as weeks pass it's occurring less and less frequently. As traumatic as it had been to lose her last daughter, and even though she knows she stayed behind, Dana is slipping farther and farther from her mother's active mind. Occasionally she has nightmares, vaguely to do with her daughter, but Scully is finding those dreams too difficult to bend to her control and not at all to her taste. Skinner's dreams of them were becoming much more rare and noticeably less concrete as well. By the time they'd been dead for a few months, they only can count on visiting anyone once every few weeks. Although not sure why, this makes the lingering spirits feel hopeless and forgotten. Even Doggett is getting the hang of the X-Files, and while he might talk to them or invite their opinion on things, and appears to genuinely enjoy their company, they get the feeling that they're no longer necessary to the cause.

One day, Doggett arrives at work and finds the lights keep going up and down. "Oh, boy. Someone's not happy. Guys? You all right? Agents?"

Mulder fades into view, standing translucently near the file cabinet. He gestures into thin air, "Scully's upset. I think she's feeling trapped by all this. We used to be able to visit people in their dreams, but only if they were already dreaming about us."

Doggett nods, "You've been gone for six months. People are...well, they haven't _forgotten_...but...yeah. I understand. I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Mulder tries to sound disinterested. He hopes that Scully will quit her fit soon and come out to talk. She's better at all this "feelings" business. Doggett still isn't a guy that Mulder would feel comfortable baring his vulnerable spots to. "She's mad. The idea that we'd been around for so long and did so much and made a real contribution...now even those closest to us don't think of us at all." The lights now stop their flickering. Doggett looks around, taking this as a possible good sign. Mulder looks up at the ceiling. "God...she's gone up to Skinner's office. What's she going to do now?"

Scully stares down at her superior and friend, having half a mind to materialize for him. It had been ages since they'd been able to talk and she's feeling frustrated. She nudges his pencil cup towards him, getting his attention. He looks up and right through her. "I gotta hand it to you, whichever one of you I'm talking to, I don't think Doggett's solve rate would've been half as good in these first couple months if you hadn't stuck around. You've done a great job...but listen, hadn't you better get going? If you can? I mean...it looks like your work here is done, isn't it?" Then he flinches back, the air charges around him and Agent Scully now stands before him. He stands, staring at her. He reaches out to her but she holds up a hand. She might be visible but she isn't solid. That still would've taken too much energy to do comfortably. "Agent Scully, I'm afraid we're going to have to let you go."

"WHAT?!" She screeches, knocking the knickknacks off of his desk in one swipe. "After all I've done?! After all that Mulder and I have done? We're _dead_, sir, and we stayed!"

Skinner remains calm, not letting himself be intimidated by a ghost. He presses on, hoping that this might help her in the end. "Be that as it may, Agent Scully, I think that it's in everyone's best interest. You've been an exemplary agent, and my friend. I know I'll never meet another person out there like you or Mulder, I'm blessed to have known you both and wish you the best of luck in the future, whatever that might be."

Scully listens with a disbelieving expression. "I'm fired?"

"Your services are no longer required. Please vacate your office as quickly as you can."

Far off in the distance, Scully hears a gunshot echo. She clutches her chest exactly where the bullet that felled her exited her body. She is now dressed in the clothes she died in, blood seeping through her back and front as she drops to her knees. Looking up at Skinner, each of them equally shocked and horrified, Scully mouths wordlessly at him...she falls backwards and he instinctively dives down to catch her, but she passes right through his arms.

"So that's how it happened," Scully remarks calmly, staring up at the ceiling. She reaches for his hand, focusing her last ounce of strength for this. He holds her hand, weeping silently at losing her all over again. Then the next second, she's gone.

Back down in the basement, Mulder had vanished in the most alarming way: the two men had just been talking, when Mulder stopped abruptly, groaning and bringing his hands to his heart as though he felt an unbearable pain. He'd gasped sharply, falling limply to the floor. He barely seemed aware that Agent Doggett was even in the room. He'd taken his last illusion of a breath and misted away with Scully's name on his lips.

Doggett claps a hand over his mouth and crouches down on the floor where Mulder had just been, overcome by a sudden shockwave of grief. He really thought he was safe with these two, that they wouldn't get taken away like so many others. He'd selfishly hoped that they'd stick with him and the three of them would be a team, fighting the good fight together. Now, once again he finds himself alone. Alone as he ever was. Minutes drag out and Skinner pushes the door open, finding Doggett in this depressed state. Doggett just looks at him and shakes his head. "They...they were great." Skinner nods; there's nothing he can think of to say. "They were something else, you know? To think I actually made friends with a couple of ghosts!" He tries to laugh off such an absurdity but he can't hide his shaking voice. Strange as it might have been, he'd been fond of them. "I should be glad to finally get the office to myself, without the windows going all funny and stuff getting moved around...damn poltergeists following me home every other night. And they were worried they'd never get to go on. Well, they fooled us, didn't they? Good for them."

"They couldn't have gone on without you. They needed to pass the torch. That's what did it. When I told Scully that you didn't need their help anymore, that you could handle the assignment on your own. She died all over again right in front of me." Skinner stops, wiping his face and taking a deep breath to steady himself. "I hope they got in. They might not have been textbook perfect, but maybe God grades on a curve. I like to think that. Sounds fair."

Doggett nods with a shadow of a smile. It grows into a real one as he thinks of it. "I bet they're fine."

After a few seconds of disorientation, Mulder and Scully find themselves in a rental car, driving down a road like many they'd traveled together before. I-63, the latest sign had read, pointing the way to locations throughout the nearby college campus. They zoom on past, not registering that anything was out of the ordinary. It seemed as though they'd just wrapped one of their cases, a routine haunting of an all-girls dorm building, and both had a vague good feeling of a case closed. They drive on into the sunrise, now feeling very tired, like they hadn't slept at all the night before. Fields flick past as they drive along, when suddenly a large travel plaza looms before them, and signs welcoming them to the Summerland Inn fly into view. With calm smiles, they pull in. There's a diner and a motel right next to each other. They stop into the diner first. Seating themselves at a booth, both of them are pleasantly surprised at how well-kept the establishment is. They'd been to their share of roadside diners over the years that they notice. They look through the menu; a bacon cheeseburger sounds great to Mulder, while Scully is drawn to the daintier spinach and sun-dried tomato quiche. What strikes them both as odd is the lack of prices listed...

Their order is taken and they eat in silence, just filled with a detached sort of quiet happiness. It felt as though they'd come to the end of a long journey and were looking forward to some well-earned rest. They finish, both of them remarking how good everything was, even their coffee was excellent. Their waitress returns, but doesn't bring the bill, instead she brings them two pieces of homemade pie boxed up to go. She waves them out and wishes them a good stay.

A little confused, they gather up their things and walk over to the motel to see about a place to sleep. There's a man at the front desk; before they can say anything he welcomes them in. "Ah, yes, there's a room reserved here for you. Fox and Dana Mulder. We were starting to worry that you weren't coming. You're staying together, is that right?" the host asks, looking between the two of them.

"Sure, that sounds fine," Scully agrees. This whole day is starting to feel surreal.

The man at the desk makes a note of this in a large book and holds it out to them to sign in. He looks up at the pair again compassionately. "You must be very tired, traveling as long as you have. You just need a good rest and you'll feel brand-new again. Have a pleasant stay. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask."

They go into their room and find a large suite, far nicer than anything either of them would've expected. In the bathroom, a Jacuzzi is swirling and steaming away, laced with sweet-scented bath oil. After unburdening themselves, they both strip down and hop in the tub together, feeling like things couldn't get any better than this. After about an hour, they get out, dry off, and head to bed. The bed is a king-size with vibrant white sheets, eight plump pillows and a down comforter. Mulder and Scully slide in wearing nothing at all with a shared sigh of content and relief. By chance, Scully glances over at the nightstand and sees a small pad of stationary and a pen. Somehow it occurs to her to send a message back home. She hastily scribbles "We just landed in, everything's fine" before Mulder draws her in close to him. Neither of them sees the words she'd written flash with a golden glow. They spoon up together, curled up so comfortably that their souls seem to touch. Their labors over, their battles won, they rest easily, somehow knowing that this must be Heaven.


End file.
